


CoSL 21: Love and Death in Portland

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [21]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Crushes, F/M, Hate groups getting slaughtered, Kidnapping, Pining, Unrequited Love, episode rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 21 of the Casebook of Sloane Larson!LONG CHAPTER, LOTS TO COVER!! Rewrites of The Grimm Who Stole Christmas, Chupacabra, Wesenrein, Tribunal and Till Death Do Us PartSloane is trying to recover after the events of Bad Company, and though things are quiet for a bit it never stays that way for long! Gremlins at Christmas and wesen viruses are par for the course. But then the Wesenrein group take Monroe--and Sloane is willing to put her new found morals aside to do what she can to help. But her mental health is starting to fray it feels. Can she keep it all together?
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Juliette Silverton, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1061588
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	CoSL 21: Love and Death in Portland

Sloane was in the woods. She didn’t remember how she got there. Something was very wrong.

She heard a yell and turned looked up to see Nick on the ground, a black monstrous shape above him. She tried to move and found she couldn’t take a step. Looking down, she saw her feet were turning to tree roots. She tried to pull them free, but her legs kept turning to wood. Nick screamed again and she looked up. The black shape was raising a hand, covered in long, knife-like claws.

“No!” she screamed. She sat up straight in bed then gasped and fell back down when her ribs protested.

“Sloane?” She heard Trubel padding over quickly, opening her door. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” she sighed, mind catching up. “Just had a bad dream…”

Trubel frowned and walked over, sitting next to her. “You sure I can’t do anything?”

She smiled a little. “It’s okay…Go back to sleep.”

Trubel nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Sloane sighed and tried to breath. It was only day three…

\---------

After the events in Idaho, Sloane had taken that two weeks off Renard pushed on her. It drove her a little crazy and she knew it would. The first week it felt like her options were eat, sleep, and watch TV or sleep some more. She had to use a crutch to go to her bathroom too and move very slowly. She asked Nick and Hank to send her some files to work on, but they’d refused, stating she needed to focus on recovery and not on any cases those first weeks. Trubel helped around the house and actually made some progress learning to cook—after finding some helpful videos on YouTube. But it also helped everyone was taking turns bringing over some food in the evenings to see how they were doing.

And at least once a night she had a nightmare. It was similar every time—someone was in danger and she couldn’t do anything. It seemed everyone had a turn at least once—Monroe, Rosalee, Trubel, Hank…Nick happened the most though. She’d see them in danger, but be unable to go to them, her feet either rooted to the ground or sinking into it. Once she was falling into a hole while seeing the black shape swallowing Rosalee whole.

Sleeping became a chore.

The second week she started going through everything in her room. She made a box of clothes that were old and could be donated—and another that they should burn. Then she ventured to the office to go through things there while Trubel went to take a run. It was something to do. Something to occupy her mind and her fingers since they were the only things that felt like thy could move. She organized her books, some of her lighter weapons and goods, etc. When she went to the desk and sat in the chair to work, she had to pause when she saw the scrap book there where she’d left it before they left for Boise.

It felt foreign once again. She used to carry it everywhere. A reminder of her accomplishments. When she felt unsure, she’d flip through and remember what she was fighting for. That she was strong enough to do all this, she could keep going. Hesitantly she reached out to pick it up again. She started from the front—high school, her first solo hunt. A ziegvolk. She’d identified him after a cheerleader talked about him assaulting her and within a week took him down on her own. Dierdre had been giving her low doses of their pheromones to build up an immunity and it worked. He’d tried to “charm” her—fifteen years old—and she’d lulled him in before trying to gut him. It’d been more of a fight than she’d anticipated but she won with only a few scratches. She kept the news article about them finding his body on school. Another couple of articles and she started putting them in the book. From there it was more news articles, descriptions, minor souvenirs like napkins and ticket stubs and the like. And obituaries. She couldn’t count them all. And she realized, she didn’t even remember them all. Some of course stuck with her, but others…she forgot their names, their faces, what they were. She’d killed so many…

_I nearly got the others killed coming to save me…_

When she got to the picture of her hunting party all together again, she stared at if for a long time. Amy looked so happy and bubbly—was that an act? Or did Collin just poison her slowly over the years? It hurt to see them, all of them, young and thinking they were tough shit and so naïve really to everything. Her fingers gripped the photo and ripped the page out roughly. Then another. Then she was shredding the pages with her fingers. What was there to be proud of? Killing strangers? Killing any wesen she could? Innocent people? Her friends?

Would she kill Nick and the others one day or get them killed trying to save her? Would their blood be on her hands?

“Sloane? Sloane!” Trubel shouted, coming over to her. She grabbed her hands as she was ripping the pages up and Sloane looked at her in confusion. “Hey…it’s okay…”

“…Is it?” she asked. It was an honest question. She looked at the pages. It didn’t erase anything, obviously. Just because the words were gone doesn’t mean the past was over. Didn’t mean she didn’t do those things. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t do them again.

“Sloane?”

“You all could’ve died…coming to get me…”

“…But we didn’t,” Trubel said. “I know Antonio died, and I’m honestly sorry he did, but we’re here. We lived. You saved Nick and Monroe!”

“What if I can’t one day?” She knew that’s what the nightmares were about. She didn’t need to be a psychologist to figure that out. But she couldn’t stop them.

“Sloane…you told me once our life is dangerous. And we can’t do it all. But we try. Nick is the same, and so is everyone else. We try. If it doesn’t work someday then…that’s how it ends. But we aren’t going to just avoid it. We can’t, right?”

“…No,” she agreed, pinching her nose. “I know you’re right…I just…”

“It will be alright. It will be,” she said a bit more sternly. “But you gotta rest…Even if you have those bad dreams.”

Sloane slowly let go of the pages and nodded, sighing. “Right…you’re right…”

Trubel helped clean up then walked her back to bed to get some sleep.

\-----------------------------

The third week, Sloane went back to the precinct using a crutch. She couldn’t go far because of her ribs, but she could make it to her desk. Everyone she met though expressed their relief she was okay and back at the station, helping her get back to her desk. A card signed by everyone in the precinct was there, as well as a get-well flowers and a gift card to a food delivery site. Though everyone fussed she was glad to sit down and start catching up on her reports and forms. She figured a case would help take her mind off things as well.

“Sloane! Glad to see you back,” Wu said, walking over to her. “Brought you a stool for your foot.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Wu, I appreciate that.”

He nodded, helping her set it up under her desk. “Nick and Hank told me what happened,” he said quietly. “Glad you and Trubel are okay.”

She smiled again and nodded. “As much as we can be…”

“Yeah, of course. You’re feeling better though, right?”

“Yeah. I was going stir crazy for a while so I’m happy to get back to work.”

“But you still need to take it easy,” Hank said, setting a coffee down on her desk.

“I’m sure I can still make plenty of headway with cases like this,” she said, relaxing back. They smiled, glad that she seemed back to herself.

During the next few weeks few cases cropped up, and shockingly, _none_ were wesen related. One was a continuation of the case Hank and Nick had been working—they’d finally gotten a hit on the other maid that worked at the Dobson residence, Sabrina Meyers. She’d fled the day after the robbery and sure enough, they’d found her and two men with long rap sheets after they tried to rob a liquor store. They’d gone through the stolen goods and money sadly quick. But she’d kept some of Mrs. Dobson’s jewelry their children identified as stolen. The crooks hadn’t known both Dobson’s were dead, but they learned quickly when they asked about the assault. They tried to deny involvement, but they were bad at being robbers and all three were found to have a connection with the scene and arrested.

After that was a man found dead in his home, no sign of break-in or robbery. Ended up he had a heart attack. Cut and dry.

A woman was killed by her husband, but they’d caught him pretty easily in a lie when she asked if his prints would be on the bat that hit her. Yes, turned to no, turned to maybe, turned to “I used to play, but not anymore”, to “That’s not me in that picture at my company’s baseball game”. None of them had asked about the photo till he pointed it out. He broke down after that.

A few others cropped up that were of course tragic in their own ways, but not wesen. Before Sloane knew it, it was time to remove her cast. She wondered which divine being decided she was finally owed a rest while her leg had healed.

“You’ll still need to take it easy. I know you said Grimms heal quick but better safe than sorry,” Nick said, driving her back home. He and Hank had been taking turns driving her till she could get a new car. Sloane had coordinated getting her old car picked up, but it was well and truly gone for good. There was no beating out a broken frame, crunched roof and the other damage done. But Nick had helped her go through and get a few things she’d hidden it in it before sending it to the junkyard. Some cash, false IDs and credit cards and the like hidden in the upholstery. He’d been dubious but she said she preferred to be prepared.

“I know, but I’m just glad I can walk on my own again…And go car shopping,” she sighed.

“…You know, I still have my aunt’s car. If you want it.”

Sloane looked at him in surprise. “Marie’s car?”

“It’s got a lot of miles, but it still runs great. I take it out ever few weeks to make sure.”

“…Thanks, that’s really sweet of you Nick. But…I think I want to get one that’s mine from start to finish. My old one was one Dierdre gave me and it did what I needed but I never got much of a say in it…Might be nice to actually go look and see what’s out now, see what I _want_.”

Nick smiled. “I get that. I was thinking before of giving it to Trubel to be honest…”

“Trubel?”

“…You don’t like that idea?” he asked delicately, noting her tone.

“No—I mean, yes, just…She talked about leaving a couple of months ago…” she admitted.

“Oh…do you think she’d be ready?” he asked hesitantly.

“…No. I think she’d do fine now. There’s always more to learn but I’m not worried she’d be unready,” she sighed.

“Just hard to say goodbye?” Nick guessed.

“…”

Nick smiled and when he came to a stop at a light, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, she’ll always have a place to come back to.”

Sloane blushed a bit and sighed. Her feelings for Nick were not subsiding and the littlest touch made her heart skip a beat. She’d hoped this would go away. Instead it was just a low hum in her mind, that turned into a scream at the worst times. But luckily, she was able to hide it. Maybe this was her punishment for not going through crush drama since elementary school, when cooties were the biggest problem. She smiled and nodded. “You’re right…Thanks.”

“Of course. So then, how about instead of heading home we hit some car dealerships?” he suggested.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said.

“Well it’s up to you but I don’t mind. Easier to shop around when I can take you and we’re both off today.”

“…Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ve been looking online and there’s some I’d like to look at.” _I’d get to spend time with him…_

“That’s the spirit!” he grinned.

\-------------------

The first place they went was a used car lot. Sloane figured if she could find one with low mileage it wouldn’t be too bad. It would be cheaper and any issues that might come with a new model of a car would hopefully be worked out. That was the idea anyway. Unfortunately, the sales team continually addressed Nick, even when he pointed out she was the one that needed a car. They were too pushy for her taste too and they decided to leave.

The next one was better but then Sloane insisted on opening the hood to look. They probably thought she was just trying to put them on the hot seat. But she could see a few issues that should mean a drop in price and she didn’t hesitate to point them out. They fought her on it and their mechanic made a snide remark regarding woman and cars that nearly had her ready to fight him. Nick managed to get her out of there before she strained herself again.

Finally, they decided to try a new dealership. Her annoyed expression after the last stop might’ve scared off the dealers at first but she was fine with that. She looked at the cars, their specs, some other online reviews and found a model she liked. She then hunted down a dealer to get a test drive and Nick sat in the back to give a second opinion. It put her in a much better mood.

At the end of it she made her choice: A new Jeep Grand Cherokee in a cool dark grey. Good for off-roading as well as the city and still with the space she wanted. They started talking about credit checks. Sloane didn’t do that. She paid in full in one go after a visit to a bank branch to make sure it was all in order. Nick couldn’t help but laugh when he saw their faces as they obviously hadn’t expected that. She’d even paid extra for seat protectors.

“Well, that’s a nice early Christmas present for yourself, hm?” the dealer asked.

“Jewish. So more of an early Hanukkah present I guess,” she smiled, waiting for them to finish washing the car off. She’d honestly almost forgotten it was December now. Monroe and Rosalee had likely decorated by now and she hoped Rosalee had a nicer time with it than last year.

“Oh, well! Congrats! Excuse me,” he said, blushing a bit as he quickly walked off. Sloane shrugged it off. People always acted like they’d accidently insulted her by assuming she wasn’t Jewish, but she was used to it by now. Christmas was pervasive this time of year, getting into everything, so she couldn’t really fault them for assuming.

“Think you’ll celebrate this year?” Nick asked, drinking some of the complimentary coffee. “Hanukkah, I mean.”

She sighed. She’d been thinking on that as well. “Maybe. Ben’s been tutoring me in my Hebrew on and off so I could try…” she said thoughtfully. “But they’re all doing stuff together and…I’m not sure I’d want to intrude on that. So, it’d just be me.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about how to practice it, but if you need or want company you know we’ll always be there for you.”

She smiled again. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. And thanks for today. I know it wasn’t a walk in the park...”

“You kidding? Watching you list all that stuff wrong at the last dealership and seeing those used car guys go from confident to super worried was hilarious!”

She laughed. “It was pretty fun. I probably could’ve done a better job than their mechanic though.”

“Well, if being a Detective doesn’t work out you could open up an auto shop,” he teased.

“Ah, no,” she said. “I’m happy being a detective.”

“Well that’s good because I like having you with me.”

Sloane almost had to grab the wall next to her. _This man is trying to kill me with kindness…_ “Same…um, but being a Grimm still comes first for me.”

“I understand…” He smiled back the nodded when they brought her car up. “Speaking of which, we’re going to meet at the trailer tomorrow. Look through some books to see if we can help Monroe and Rosalee get some piece of mind. Those Order Second nature…uh…”

“Just call them The Order,” she smiled.

“Yeah, them. They’ve been quiet but I’d rather use that time to figure out what they’re doing. I don’t think they’ve given up…”

The smile faded and she nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll meet you tomorrow.” She climbed into the car, waving as she drove for home.

\---------------

**Grimm Who Stole Christmas**

**\---------------**

They met up the next day at the trailer to go through the books there for anything that might be of help—and do a little organizing. Sloane was making index cards, labels and overall organizing the trailer like a library while they flipped through the books. The others were helping, writing down wesen names as they flipped through the book and, if they could read the passages, a few highlights for the index cards to go in a rolodex. Later they’d make a digital database too, but this would at least give an easier way to sort through them.

Hank was the one that ended up finding a passage on the Secundum naturae Ordinem Wesen.

“Those are the pus-heads that burned a wolfsangel on their lawn?” Trubel asked.

“That’s what Rosalee thinks,” Nick said. “Whatcha got?”

Hank brought the book over for them all to look at over his shoulder while he read. “"1252, Lyon. I first encountered the secundum naturae ordinem wesen, also known as the Wesenrein, during a trial conducted by the catholic inquisition. Not only were they searching out heretics and burning them at the stake, but some of the inquisitors, I discovered, were wesen and using their positions to root out impurity within the wesen society. The wesen heretics, or as they were known, the Impuro, were tried outside the cities by secret tribunals. These brutal trials dragged on from one to three days, bereft of mercy."”

“Nice masks,” Trubel said snidely, looking at the skull half masks the tribunal were wearing with their robes as they passed judgment on two wesen, one a bird and the other a dog of some sort.

“I guess bedsheets and hoods came into fashion for these sort of groups later…” Sloane said. Hank nodded a bit, grimacing as he continued.

“"They too were burned, not necessarily so much at the stake as through the stake." Ah, an artistic rendering,” he grimaced as he turned the page, showing the two previous wesen now impaled on stakes and being burned while their others were looking on. “"Seeing that the tribunals were doing my work for me, I took a much-needed sabbatical on the isle of Crete."”

“I guess the inquisition made life easier for the Grimms,” Trubel sighed.

“Well, I for one didn’t expect the catholic inquisition,” Sloane said.

“You know Monty Python?” Hank asked in surprise.

“It’s been a while, but yeah,” she smiled. “Caught it while traveling. First time I laughed in a long while as a teen now that I remember...”

“I keep forgetting you had a rough time back then…” Trubel said, frowning.

She shook her head. “It’s fine, I’m doing better now.” She meant that doubly so that Trubel needed to stop worrying about her having bad dreams. They were getting better, honestly. “We have more pressing issues.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, it seems like the Wesenrein didn't die out with the inquisition,” Nick pointed out. “How did they know Monroe and Rosalee were married? It's not like they took out an ad.”

“Well, it looks like somebody at the wedding told somebody who told somebody,” Trubel guessed. Sloane frowned, not liking the idea that someone from the wedding put them in danger but knew that must’ve been true. They’d have to start looking over the guests.

Nick’s phone went off then and he picked it up to answer. “Burkhardt…Okay, we’ll meet you there.” He hanged up and looked at them. “Got a new case, someone broke into a house and assaulted one of the residents.”

“I’ll hang out here and keep reading if it’s okay,” Trubel said.

“Alright, but if it gets too late just stay here and text us to pick you up tomorrow morning,” Sloane said. They then got into their cars to head to the scene.

Outside the house was chaotic with destroyed decorations—and while the police were stomping around quite a bit, she didn’t think it was all due to them. It looked like something or someone had gone to town on the house.

“Sorry if I interrupted any holiday festivities,” Wu said, leading them past the tape to the front door. “I wasn't sure if this was gang related or not, but it's definitely home invasion.”

“Question is, what invaded?” Nick asked, looking at the damage.

“And who got hurt?” Sloane inquired.

“Dennis Gladstone, owner of the house, got banged up pretty good. But alive,” Wu said. “Paramedics took him in. His wife stayed behind to talk to us, but she's anxious to get to the hospital.”

“Any witnesses?” Hank asked.

“Mr. Gladstone's the only eyewitness, but neighbors said they heard a lot of strange noises. Of course, strange is your specialty.”

“Which answers my next question of why we’re here when we’re usually homicide,” Sloane nodded.

“No visible signs of forced entry,” Nick said, looking at the door.

“Locks weren't tampered with. No windows broken. So much debris and wreckage, gonna be a challenge to dust for prints,” Wu sighed. He led them past the living room towards the dining room, where a woman with short curly hair was shakily drinking tea with an afghan over her shoulders. “Mrs. Gladstone, this is Detective Burkhardt, Detective Larson, and Detective Griffin.”

She looked up and nodded to them. “Thank you. I-I can't believe this happened. I really want to see my husband.”

“We understand. We just need to ask a few questions,” Hank said. “Did you witness the attack?”

“No, but I heard it. It was horrible…When I got downstairs, whoever did this was gone. I found Dennis on the floor,” she choked out.

“Did anything happen before the attack?” Nick asked.

“We had a party with a lot of our friends. Went to about 11:00, then everyone left. We locked up and went to bed.”

“And nothing unusual stood out to you? You knew everyone that arrived?” Sloane said.

“Yes, everything seemed normal…Well, we had a late-night delivery, but that's about it.”

“What delivery?” Nick asked.

“I'm not sure, really. There was a present left on the front doorstep. I didn't see it until a couple of the guests brought it in.”

“Do you know which one it was?”

“Um, that one,” she leaned over and pointed to a large box in the middle of the room. “How much longer? I really need to get to the hospital.”

“Do you have any idea who sent the present?”

“No, I wasn't paying attention,” she sighed.

“Check this out,” Hank said. Nick and Sloane turned to look at him while he examined the large box. “Looks like somebody ripped this open from the inside.”

“So…something came out of the box on its own?” Nick theorized. He noticed something on the ground and leaned down to have a look while Sloane looked at box more closely.

“Wait, so…they brought the package inside, put it under the tree. Party ends. They go to bed…something comes out and unlocks the door?” Sloane said.

“Later, they hear something. Mr. Gladstone comes downstairs, interrupts what's going on, tries to run, was attacked,” Hank finished.

“Looks like someone had time for a snack,” Nick added, pointing at the smudged crumbs on the ground.

“You can work up an appetite beating somebody up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Sloane muttered, and Nick smacked her lightly. She smacked him back.

“That looks like fruitcake,” Hank added.

Nick picked up a bit, frowning as he had to agree. The bits of fruit were almost radioactively bright among the cakey, brown crumbs. “Hmm, I didn't think anyone ate those.”

\------------------

Trubel texted her, opting to stay at the trailer that night. She had the bike if she wanted to head back early. Sloane sighed but figured she wasn’t there to set a curfew for her. Going to bed, she had another nightmare though. This time Collin was there, standing over the dead bodies of all her friends and saying she was the cause. Their blood made the ground like a swamp and she was sinking down into it. She woke up in a cold sweat and wondered if he was haunting her. The last time she’d had so many similar nightmares was after her Grandmother died. Eventually they’d decreased and now it was rare she had a dream about that night even if she thought about it a lot still. These nightmares would also peter off she told herself. But she still decided getting back to bed wasn’t worth it and got up to get ready for the day. It was close enough to sunrise anyway.

As she did her morning workout, she got a text from Trubel to meet at Nick’s house. She thought it was odd but shrugged, grabbed a package of pop tarts and headed out.

Juliette answered the door, smiling in confusion. “Hey, Sloane. What brings you by?”

“Uh, Trubel told me to meet her here?” she said, confused.

“Trubel? Um, she’s not here…” she said. “Come in.”

Nick was at the table near the kitchen, eating his breakfast. “Hey, you’re up early.”

“Not as early as Trubel, who seems to be up to something,” Sloane said.

Nick frowned and before he could ask, Trubel and Josh both rushed in, panting.

“Sloane! Good, you’re here,” Trubel gasped.

“Yeah, I am…what’s going on?”

“Did you go on a walk this morning?” Juliette asked.

“More like a run,” Josh panted.

“In Nick’s neighborhood?”

“Uh…not exactly. I came to hide the bike here and because the bus ran closer to where I wanted…and Josh saw me and wanted to come along.”

“Okay…Where were you going? Was there a problem?” Nick prompted. Trubel tossed the mask to him and Nick looked at it in further confusion. “What is this?”

“Looks familiar,” Sloane said, on alert now.

“You remember when Bud came by and asked me to help with that bully problem at school?” Trubel asked. Sloane nodded and Trubel looked a little anxious as she continued. “Well, it was really about this guy, Shaw, a Klaustreich who was gonna do something to Nick 'cause he heard he—you weren't a Grimm anymore,” she said, looking between them.

Nick’s jaw dropped and he looked at Sloane who was equally surprised. “And Bud thought you should help with this?” he asked.

“Well, he was going to ask Sloane, but she was sick.”

“Yeah, I remember that…” she nodded. “So, Bud told you and you went to go intimidate him?”

“Yeah. And it worked! I think…”

“Then why did you go back today?”

“Bud thought that Shaw found out from a guy who was at Monroe and Rosalee's wedding, which is what we were talking about in the trailer, right? This threat against them. So, I thought that Shaw must have heard about a Blutbad marrying a Fuchsbau, so I went over there to see what I could find out, and I sure didn't think it was gonna be that. The mask was in the coat of a Schakal Josh hit in the head with a rock.”

“You hit a Schakal with a rock?” Juliette asked, smiling in admiration.

“Well, he was coming up behind Trubel, and I just...” He made a motion of hitting someone. With a rock in his hand, they guessed. Old school but effective.

“You got away? Nobody saw you?” Juliette asked.

“No,” they both said.

Sloane picked up the mask and had to agree it looked just like the mask the Order wore in the book. “So, he’s part of the Order?”

“I think so. He had a bunch of other people over and were…um, talking about me, I think. They said it was about a female Grimm and I never told him about you.”

“Knowing about you isn’t good either,” Nick sighed. “We need to figure next steps now.”

“Well, Bud knows this guy, Shaw,” Trubel said. “He might know more about his friends too.”

Nick’s phone rang and he looked at the ID before sighing and answering. “Hank?...Yeah, we can meet you at the hospital. Sloane’s here too. …I’ll explain there.” He hanged up and looked at Trubel seriously. “See what you can find out from Bud, but just get the names.”

Trubel nodded, smiling at being of use as they got up to leave.

\---------------

According to Dennis Gladstone he was attacked by 3 or more kids in costumes that looked like hairy little men with yellow teeth and bright green eyes. And that they smelled “like a boys locker room”.

That night another attack occurred, and another the night after that. All with similar MO of vandalism and assault if anyone was unlucky enough to get in their way. The fourth night they were marking up a clear board map to track down what they were doing. The center, they noted, was a St. Demetrios Greek orthodox church. Hank took special note of that.

Wu walked over with a piece of paper in his hands that showed the sketch of a hairy creature with big ears and eyes and sharp teeth, it’s nose flatter like a reptilian snout. “So, sketch artist sent this over. I think you might see why I’m a bit concerned putting this up.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Hank said, grimacing at the sketch.

“I’m not sure what this is,” Sloane said. “But I guess it’s at least not Krampus again. Rosalee said the council picked him up to hold him till January.”

“That’s a relief,” Nick sighed.

“Krampus…that’s like Santa’s evil brother, right?” Wu asked.

“Not exactly but also exactly,” Hank said. “The kidnappings last year? Krampus getting his Christmas dinner together.”

“Wow…okay, um…well, whatever this is, it hasn’t eaten anyone. Yet.”

“Let’s just hope it stays that way,” Sloane sighed.

“Well, fourth time might be the charm,” Hank said, waving his phone. “911 in progress.”

They quickly got their coffees and headed for their car to go see what was happening. Hank had to slam on his breaks as they pulled up and a plastic sleigh came flying out in front of them.

“What the heck was that?” Sloane asked. They all climbed out and they froze a moment. Two little…creatures were completely wrecking the Christmas decorations in the yard of a house, smashing them up and tossing them about. Sloane wasn’t much of a Christmas person either, but she thought this was taking it a little far.

“What the hell are they?” Hank asked, moving closer to Nick and Sloane warily.

“No idea,” Nick said.

They watched as they turned their eyes to them and cackled before running off up the street. They were going to follow when they heard another noise. “There’s one on the roof…” Hank said. Looking up, they saw a third creature on the roof, tossing more decorations down. As they watched the creature lost its balance and with a screech that hurt their ears went sliding down the roof to crash on the brick porch below. All three of them quickly ran up to see if it was okay. Shockingly it started standing up, shaking its head. It turned to them and its lips curled in a feral snarl. Despite it’s strange looks, it was wearing what looked like jeans and a plaid thermal and jacket she’d expect any normal person to wear.

“It’s like its made from hair and teeth,” Sloane said. She couldn’t deny despite it being half the size of a wesen she usually squared up against, it was freaking her out a little more.

“Now, take it easy, pal,” Nick said, holding his hands out as he started advancing.

Before he could lunge at them, Hank had come up the other way with a garden gnome in hand and broke it over the creature’s head. It went down like light and Hank tossed the broken gnome away.

“You see this too?” Nick asked.

“Oh, yeah. There's no hiding that one.”

“So, it’s not a passive woge…” Sloane said.

“Is it wesen?” Hank asked, looking at her.

“Actually, I don’t know,” she admitted, leaning down to look closer.

“I don't know if it's woged or what,” Nick agreed.

“Well, if it's not wesen, what the hell is it?”

“Ghost of Christmas bullshit?” she asked.

“Too solid. And we sure as hell can't take it back to the precinct,” Nick sighed. They looked up when they heard a siren in the distance.

“Oh, we're not leaving it here,” Hank said, shaking his head.

“Well, we'd better take it somewhere before somebody sees it,” Sloane said.

“Okay, we'll take it to Monroe and Rosalee's. They can help us figure out what it is,” Nick said.

Sloane sighed but knew it was the best option they had and leaned down to try and pick it up. They all reeled back however when the smell hit them.

“Oh! That guy wasn't lying about the smell,” Hank said, covering his nose and mouth.

“Is that what a men’s locker room smells like?” Sloane asked in disgust. “What is wrong with men?”

“Okay, not even we are that bad,” Nick said defensively. “I'm gonna call Juliette; We're gonna need a big dog crate.”

“And animal sedatives,” Hank added.

They got it into the car breathing through their mouths, glad that it was a sedan so that the trunk closed all the way. Nick called Juliette while they headed over to Monroe and Rosalee’s. Everyone met them outside.

“Now, we don't know what this thing is, so be careful,” Nick said. “Ready?” They nodded and took a breath (to hold it) as he opened the trunk. A wall of smell immediately assaulted them, and they all gasped. They gasped again as it rose up with a snarl, little hands poised to attack them. Nick reacted without a second thought and punched it in the face, sending it down. Again.

“Jeez!” Monroe said.

“Oof, I think it's out,” Juliette said sympathetically. She held up the syringe she had. “Still want me to use this?”

“Yes!”

“Are you kidding?”

“Please.”

“That or use it on me so I don’t have to smell this…”

Juliette quickly administered the shot and Nick looked at Monroe and Rosalee. “So, have you ever seen one of these before?”

“That would be a definite uh-uh,” Monroe shook his head.

“Me neither,” Rosalee agreed.

“Ooh, it smells like a... Like a pungent, vinegarish, glandular, musky kind of, yeah, a chamber pot,” Monroe said, sampling the stench delicately like a fine wine.

“Let's get him inside the crate,” Hank said, moving to grab him with Nick. “You can't open it from the inside, can you?”

“No, and we've got an hour, hour and a half before it wakes up,” Juliette said, capping the syringe and boxing it up quickly. “Not much longer.”

“Why don't you get it into the garage, and then Juliette and I will monitor while you guys check out the trailer?” Rosalee suggested.

“Wait a minute. You gonna be all right?” Monroe asked. He didn’t like leaving her alone.

Rosalee smirked and woged. “I'll be alright.”

“Good luck,” Sloane said, heading into the car again to head to the trailer. They immediately started thumbing through books, spending several minutes just trying to figure out even where in the world to start.

“Something about 4 feet tall, hairy, smelly, and hates Christmas,” Nick mumbled to himself, pacing.

“That narrows it down, sort of,” Monroe nodded. “And I can tell you, from the odoriferous evidence, it is not lupine, canine, feline, vulpine, or bovine.”

“What about porcine?” Sloane said, smiling.

“That too!”

“Think I got something... In Greek?” Hank said.

“We're talking Mediterranean?”

“I think so.”

“Well, admittedly, the guys I traveled with could get pretty smelly after Greek food…” Sloane said. She had meant it as a joke, but it brought up memories of Antonio and she felt her mood drop a little.

“Take a look at this,” Hank said, turning the book towards them.

Nick looked over the picture and nodded. “Yeah, looks like them.”

“Huh, well, I hope it's been translated,” Monroe said.

“Yeah, a few times. French, Russian, German...” Hank said, flipping through some loose pages tucked with it.

“Ah, I got English,” Monroe said, waving a sheet and leaning over to read it by the desk lamp. “Ka... Kallikantzaroi...” he pronounced slowly.

“That's the English?” Hank asked dubiously.

“I... that's, I think, what they're called. "December 1730, I arrived in Dresden at the order of king Augustus the second, the strong, having been successful at tracking down and dispatching Kallikantzaroi"…Rye? Roy. I don't know. "In the Greek isles the year before, I suddenly found myself much in demand, but my discovery of what they were was not without its pitfalls. Before my time, it was assumed that Kallikantzaroi were goblins who descended upon cities to wreak havoc during the celebration of Christenmas, but after several bloody decapitations, I was horrified to learn that they were...Children of the Indole gentile."”

“They're kids?” Hank asked, horrified as well.

“That's what it says. I've known several Indole Gentile. Very nice people.”

“…Oh god…we have bludgeoned, kidnapped, and drugged a child that we’re keeping in a dog crate,” Sloane said, torn between horror and wanting to laugh in a manic way at how awful it was.

“Let’s…try not to think about it that way,” Nick said, though he was also feeling a bit guilty now. “So, where do the Kallikantzaroi come from?”

“Well, there's more right here,” Monroe said, clearing his throat. “"Kallikantzaroi are rare among the Indole gentile and appear to manifest during pubertas, lasting about 12 days and linked somehow to the bruma."”

“The what?” Hank asked.

“Oh, that's Latin for "winter solstice." Why do I know that? I don't know,” he said, shaking his head in confusion at his own array of knowledge.

“So, Kallikantzaroi are children of Indole gentile who somehow go through a puberty transformation during Christmas but only at night,” Nick clarified.

“Yeah, I mean, I wonder if it's triggered by the days getting shorter, you know, like Krampus…”

“Well, I don’t think the council can lock all these guys up,” Sloane said.

“Are you telling me it's all about raging hormones?” Nick clarified.

“I... you know, it's either this or acne with them, I guess,” Monroe said, throwing his hands up in a _“Might as well be this”_ gesture.

“Anything in there about how to stop them besides, you know, cutting off their heads? 'Cause I'm not down with that,” Hank said.

“Me neither,” Sloane said, and Nick nodded as well.

“I understand,” Monroe nodded, leaning back over. “Let's see…"Now, knowing I was dealing with children, I put away my sword and worked feverishly to discover something that would stop them. King Augustus, however, had found the answer for me. By chance, his mother discovered the Kallikantzaroi were insatiably drawn to sweet cakes. The king ordered the royal Baker to create the first stollen, a German sweet cake made with candied fruit. It stood 7 cubits high and weighed 6 stone." Wow, that's like an 84-pound cake! "As strange as it sounds, when they overindulge, it renders the Kallikantzaroi harmless, returning them for good to their natural state once the sun comes up."”

“German sweet cake with candied fruit?” Hank asked, smiling a bit at how amazing it was all coming together now. “Sound like fruitcake to anybody else?”

The Grimms looked at one another in surprise and Monroe leaned back. “Wow…So there's actually a reason for fruitcake. Huh.”

\-----------------------

They could hear the commotion inside when they pulled back up to Monroe and Rosalee’s house. Monroe went in first and woged, roaring and scaring off not one but three of the Kallikantzaroi. Sloane had hanged back to try and grab one and subsequently yelped when one launched itself at her, knocking her flat and then running off.

“Sloane! You okay?” Nick yelled, rushing back down and over to her.

“Nothing hurt by my dignity…” she sighed. “They’re faster and heavier than I thought they’d be. Also, two more than I expected…”

Nick chuckled and offered a hand down. Sloane blushed but reached up and grabbed it, letting him help pull her up. She tried not to hold on too tightly when he let go.

“How'd they get here?” Hank panted.

“It's got to be the smell. I mean, something that bad travels,” Monroe said.

“Well, can you follow them?” Nick asked.

“Not in three different directions at once! They’re moving too fast also…”

“No way we're gonna put out an APB,” Hank said. They sighed and headed back up into the house. As they’d expected, the inside was completely decked out for Christmas. A few things were minorly torn down, but it was still mostly intact. Including the antique trainset set up between the dining room and the kitchen.

“Monroe, I'm so sorry,” Juliette said, helping Rosalee set the coffee table back upright after one of them flipped it over.

“Yeah, by the time we got to the garage, they were already out,” Rosalee sighed. “Why didn't you guys tell us there were more?”

“We only had one,” Nick said, shrugging with an apologetic look.

“We didn't know they would find each other,” Hank added.

“Ah, but you saved the Marklin,” Monroe said, looking at the train in relief.

Rosalee nodded, still holding a frying pain. “Nobody was touching this train. Over my dead body.” Monroe looked smitten all over again as he went over to kiss her.

“Look, this is my fault, by the way,” Nick sighed. “I should never have brought him here.”

“Did you figure out what it was?” Juliette asked.

“Yeah, a "Kallikarkazoi,”” He pronounced slowly.

Monroe nodded. “Yeah, it's some sort of, like, rare, seasonal, hormonal disorder that apparently only affects certain children of the Indole gentile.”

“They're Italian?” Juliette asked, noting his pronunciation.

“Actually, Greek, but they're only supposed to wreak havoc for the 12 days of Christmas,” Hank said.

“12 days? We have 5 more days of this?” Rosalee asked, horrified.

“Maybe if we brought the Krampus back, they’d cancel each other out…or he’d eat them…” Sloane said thoughtfully.

“No,” Nick said. He knew she was kidding, really, but it was funny to see her pout at him.

“We got to figure out where they're gonna strike next,” Monroe said.

“Even if we do, how do we stop them?” Juliette asked.

“Fruitcake,” Nick said, disbelieving still. The others were just as confused but they quickly ran down the story before splitting back up again to go home and rest for the night.

In the morning Nick texted her that they had some information about the Order. She went to join them for breakfast while Trubel explained that she, Josh and Bud had staked out Shaw’s house and made notes on who Bud recognized and what they were. There were at least five men that showed up, which were already not great odds.

“Without evidence tying them to the Wolfsangel or the brick through the window, we can’t arrest them,” Nick sighed.

“I mean, isn’t this a wesen issue?” Trubel pointed out.

“Well, yes…but we try to use the first as often as we can.”

“If they threaten them again though, I’m swatting them,” Sloane said, sipping her coffee.

Nick looked at her in confusion. “Do you know how to SWAT someone?”

“Yeah. I throw a flashbang in there, then I go in and swat them. With a bat or a sword. Gets the message across.”

“I like that plan,” Trubel said, and Nick just shook his head.

“Good morning,” Josh said, coming into the kitchen in a robe.

“Hey, you want coffee?” Juliette asked.

“Oh, yeah. Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me stay here,” he said honestly. “Hey, Nick, you said you thought the guys who were in my dad's house were "Hungjagers." Am I saying that right?”

“Hund. Not Hung,” Trubel said.

“Right. Those are the same kind of wesen that attacked me and my dad when we were out here.” They nodded, remembering the attacks. “Look, I think I'm gonna have to go back home and deal with this however I can, but is there any way that I can learn more about this stuff before I go?”

Nick looked considering, then looked at Sloane and nodded subtly to Trubel. Sloane arched her brow but then nodded as well. It made more sense this way considering they needed to track down a bunch of hormonal children. “Yeah, I think there is,” he said, looking at Trubel more squarely.

Trubel blinked then straightened, surprised. “You cool with that?”

“If you are,” Nick nodded.

“Yeah. I think you’re at a good place to help him,” Sloane nodded.

A slow smile spread across her face and she looked excited that they trusted her with that.

Nick’s phone rang then, and he picked it up to speak with Monroe. Apparently, he’d found a medical alert bracelet that must’ve fallen off one of the Kallikantzaroi. It was their first lead on their identities and they quickly headed out to visit the address. It looked like a very normal two-story brick colonial, with simple decorations and a wreath on the door. Nick knocked and they waited until a woman with olive skin and dark hair answered the door.

“Mrs. Katsaros?” Nick asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m Detective Burkhardt. This is Detective Griffin and Detective Larson. Do you have a son named John?”

“Yes. Is something wrong?” she asked, worried.

Nick held up the bracelet they’d swung by Monroe’s to get. “Is this his?”

“Oh, my God,” she gasped. They saw her woge then—her skin became iridescent and pale green-gold, her ears larger and pointed, and her eyes grew huge and doe-like, taking up half her face. “You’re the Grimm,” she gasped, backing up slightly.

Nick quickly held up a hand. “We’re also cops, and we’re concerned that your son might be hurting others or get hurt himself.”

She looked unsure a moment, but it obviously threw her that they were talking peacefully. She hesitated but stood to the side to let them in. “Let me get my husband…”

“Thank you,” Nick said. Sloane and Hank nodded as they headed in, going to the sitting room. Mrs. Katsaros quickly went to get her husband from upstairs and he looked immediately wary of them as well. HE woged, having a similar look to his wife, then changed back. “You really are Grimms…what are you doing here?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Sloane said. “But we’re here to help you and your son.”

“My son? What does he have to do with this?” he asked, defensive.

“We don’t mean any harm,” Hank said. “But we need to talk with you all about a matter concerning…what you are.”

“Have you ever heard of Kallikantzaroi?” Sloane asked. The looked surprised but still wary. “We ask because we’ve had reports the last few nights and we’ve figured out that they are the ones causing trouble.”

“And we think your son may be one of them,” Nick added.

“Kallikantzaroi?” he asked, surprised. He slowly sat down, his wife sitting next to him. “I know it's possible, but it's rare. Like Tay-Sachs disease in the Jewish population or sickle cell anemia in African Americans,” he said, trying to explain why that couldn’t be right. Sloane and Hank glanced at one another but didn’t comment.

“Only a very small population of Indole Gentile of Greek heritage are even susceptible,” his wife added.

“John never showed any signs.”

“He's a very sweet boy.”

“He's home every night,” the father laughed.

“Are you sure?” Hank asked carefully.

“We found your son's medical bracelet in one of the homes that was attacked,” Nick added, holding it out again.

They looked at one another in surprise then frowned in thought. “He must have been sneaking out at night…That would explain why he's been so tired,” his father said. He’d obviously wondered but didn’t want to believe it was true.

“Where is John now?” Sloan asked.

“He's performing with the St. Demetrios youth choir tonight,” his mother said.

“Wait a minute. The St. Demetrios here?” Hank asked, holding up his phone after pulling up the picture he’d taken of their crime map.

“Yes, that's our church. It's how we all keep in touch with our Greek heritage,” she nodded. “People come from miles around.”

“Where's the choir performing tonight?” Nick asked.

“The Christmas concert and tree lighting at the church. We were just on our way there.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Sloane said, looking at the clock on her phone. “The sun’s going to set soon.”

“Do you have a photo of John?” Nick asked.”

“Of course,” she said, getting up and going to a credenza with several photos.

“If I could talk to my son first, I...” the father started, obviously worried how they were going to handle this.

“Sir, he's not the only one,” Hank said. He frowned more but sighed.

Mrs. Katsaros handed Nick a framed school photo of a young boy of maybe about 13 who smiled at the camera innocently.

“Thank you. I promise, we have a method to stop them without hurting them.”

“We just need a way to administer it,” Sloane reminded him quietly.

Nick frowned but then nodded. “We’ll get that too and meet you at the church.”

“Alright…” she said slowly, unsure.

\---------------

“A truck full of Fruitcake” was going to look weird on their expense report, but she figured Renard would let it slide when they explained. Monroe and Rosalee were enlisted to help set up trail of fruit cake from the church doors down to the waiting truck. They were going to try and pull the choir to a side room to contain them when they transformed. But they were too late—they transformed while up on stage and started causing mayhem. They destroyed decorations, flipped tables, jumped and pulled the tree down—all in the span of minutes. The detectives worked to try and keep the innocent people there from being assaulted in the confusion. Then the little gremlins paused and followed the sweet scent of cake outside. They went out the door, down the steps and into the truck as planned, where Monroe and Rosalee locked them in and drove them to a more secluded area.

They and the Katsaros explained what happened to the other parents. They found a place to hole up and rest for a while until sunrise and in the morning, they opened the truck to see three creatures morph back into pre-teen boys, for good if the book could be believed. It was a huge relief. And Sloane had to admit, the fruitcake wasn’t terrible. She still preferred sugar cookies though.

Nick drove Sloane back to her house and they were surprised that Trubel was waiting out on the porch for them, with her old army-style backpack next to her.

“Trubel? You’re up early again,” Sloane said, getting out with Nick.

“I wanted to get an early start,” she said.

“You going somewhere?” Nick asked.

Trubel stood in front of them and it felt weirdly like they were parents with their child.

“Sloane…Nick…I can't thank either of you enough. You saved my life,” she said, looking up that them with sincere eyes. “But well…things are sort of back to normal, and you don't need me as much as you did…”

Sloane frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. “Trubel, that’s not—”

“No, it’s true. And it’s a good thing.”

“Is this about Chavez?” Nick asked. “Is she bothering you again to join her?”

“She did contact me again, yeah. I don't trust them, and I don't think it's right for me,” she said honestly.

“Then what are you—” Sloane started.

“Just let me finish, or I might not make it,” she said quickly. Sloane quieted, but still felt worried. She had a feeling what was coming but had thought it might wait till summer. “Josh came here, and I heard his story. He wants to go back home. I don't think we should let him do that by himself.”

“You want to help Josh?” Nick asked, a little surprised.

“Yeah, I think I should try,” she nodded. “But, um, I can't, you know, say good-bye to everybody. Not in person. Monroe and Rosalee and Hank...But especially Juliette. Saying goodbye to you two is hard enough…”

Nick frowned in sympathy and then smiled and put a hand on her other shoulder. “Yeah, look. We're not going anywhere, and I think you should do whatever you want to do.”

Trubel looked relieved, then looked at Sloane worried. She sighed again and then smiled. “I…am going to miss you. A lot. But he’s right. We’re going to be here if you need us and you’ll have a bed here when you need it.”

She smiled more, and sniffed, trying to keep from crying.

“How are you gonna get there?” Nick asked.

Trubel wiped at her eyes, trying to get back under control. “We'll figure it out.”

“I think I have something that might help…Is Josh at my place still?”

“Yeah?”

“Alright, let’s head over there.”

“Alright… I need to make a stop on the way, but I’ll be right behind you. Why don’t you go with Nick?” Sloane suggested.

She looked at Nick and he nodded with a smile. “Okay…I’ll see you there.” Sloane nodded, getting into her own car and driving off. Trubel got into Nick’s and he started for his place. “…Nick, there’s one thing I do want to ask for from you…”

“Name it,” he said. That was something Trubel liked about Nick. When it came to people needing him, he didn’t hesitate to try and help.

“Look after Sloane.”

He blinked and glanced at her before looking back at the road. “Sloane? She needs looking after?”

“Yeah…I mean, I’m just…She’s strong, I’m not saying she isn’t. And I think she’ll be okay. But ever since Idaho, she’s been…off. In private, when she’s not with the rest of us. But I’ve seen her. She’s been having a lot of nightmares. I hear her wake up sometimes. When I asked her about it, she says they’ll go away on their own. I think…I think she’s trying to not let it affect her. But it did. And I get that because I did that too, but I don’t know how to make it better! I’m worried about her. I thought about not going, but…”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll look out for her,” Nick nodded. He could tell she meant what she said, and he wondered how bad Sloane was getting when they weren’t looking to scare Trubel that much. “And so will Rosalee and Monroe—we’re all here for her.”

She sighed and nodded. “I know…But I know she’s trying to hide it too. I won’t be there anymore so that’s why I’m asking.”

“Got it…” He kept driving, thinking that over. Sloane always seemed so strong; it was hard imagining her breaking down like that.

Sloane meanwhile made her stop and then went immediately to Nick’s house. He was coming out of the house with Josh as she pulled up. “Hey, thought you got lost for a second,” he called.

“I stopped to grab something.”

He nodded and Trubel looked at her curiously but followed Nick as he went to the garage, opening it up to show a dusty, wood paneled Jeep Wagoneer inside. “This was my aunt Marie's. This is what she brought the trailer here with. I didn't want to sell it, but this seems like a good way for it to move on.”

Trubel was awed, looking at it like it was the best car ever even under all the dust. Josh looked amazed as well and smiled at him. “I promise I'll take good care of it,” he said.

Nick smiled and made to toss him the keys, only to have Trubel grab them out of the air. “Nah-uh. First shift.”

They all smiled, and Sloane sighed. “I grabbed a parting gift as well…at the bank.” She pulled a fat envelope out of her jacket and handed it to her.

Trubel opened it and looked inside, her eyes getting big. “Sloane, how much is in here?”

“Enough to get you to Philadelphia and get you started,” she said. She looked at Josh. “It’s to help you too because you might need to get a new job at this point.”

“I…thank you…”

“I-We can’t take all this,” she said, getting flustered. “I mean, you just bought a car, and who knows what will happen later—”

“Trubel, look at me,” Sloane said, putting her hands on her shoulders. “I paid cash for my car. I paid cash for my house. Neither of those put a dent in my finances.” Nick and Josh looked at one another, surprised. Sloane never talked much about money. “My grandmother made sure I’d be well taken care of on top of money I got…well, we won’t go into how. It’s a pain to draw it out because the money is in a lot of places, but it’s not scaring me to give you this. I just wish I had something better to give honestly…”

She looked at her in confusion. “Sloane…you gave me my life. Both of you but…living with you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Sloane felt her heart twist a little and before she really thought about it she hugged her tightly. Trubel hugged her tightly back, tearing up a bit again and hiding her face against the other woman’s shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger,” Sloane said quietly. Part of her wanted to say, “don’t go”. Wanted her to stay where she could see her, where she could make sure nothing killed her. As a kid she’d once asked for a sister—an awkward conversation with her Grandmother ensued and she’d cried all night at how unfair it was she couldn’t have one. There was no way her mother would have another child. Now she wondered if this is what it felt like.

“I won’t.”

After a quick wash with the hose and a sudsy bucket, Trubel and Josh were off. They waved as they drove away, and Sloane sighed. “My house is going to seem empty…”

Nick looked at her, thinking on what Trubel said. “Why don’t you stay for dinner,” he suggested. Sloane felt a little lighter at the invitation. “I don’t think Juliette will mind.”

At the mention of Juliette, she felt a little twist in her gut this time. “…Sure, that’d be great.”

\-----------------------

When Sloane did get home, it did feel empty. And quiet. Trubel had gone out more frequently in the last few weeks—but she’d always come back. Now she was off on her own again. But she was prepared, she told herself. Trubel was not going to have the same problems she did before they met her. And she had to believe that she was ready for anything else.

The nightmare that night was Trubel disappearing into darkness. Sloane was starting to get very annoyed at her brain. She kept telling it everything was fine, but it didn’t want to listen.

Christmas came and went, and by extension Hanukkah. Sloane had hesitated practicing, but she had brought down her family’s Menorah from her Grandmother’s house. She had to look up a lot about how to do the lighting and the songs. It felt a bit silly at first to light them alone—and she’d very nearly used the wrong candle to do it. But the memories came back as she did. They weren’t the most devout family, but her Grandmother had tried her best to make sure she felt close to her Jewish roots. She remembered lighting the menorah as a child and it brought those memories back. Tinged by sadness, it was still nice, and she put a picture of her Grandmother next to the Menorah the first night. That helped her continue each night.

That year Hanukkah ended on Christmas Eve and it felt right to do the last night with her friends. She invited them for a combination Holiday party and all of them came—Nick, Juliette, Hank, Monroe, Rosalee, Bud and even his kids. Sloane had been fine with them coming and had even made sure to get some Gelt for them—in this case, chocolate coins. David, Ben and Sarah came as well for a quick visit and David taught Bud’s sons how to play with the Dreidel. His mother reminded him not to take all their coins.

It was a good night and after a week without Trubel it helped make her feel at home again even alone.

But the bad dreams still came.

\-------------------

**Chupacabra**

**\------------------**

A few more days passed, the Christmas rush calming and finally going. But their demand didn’t stop.

“Victims were found this morning around 5:00 A. M. by a neighbor,” Wu sighed, leading them past the crime tape. They were on what looked like a normal suburban street, out in the open. Not the usual place for a brutal murder.

“"Victims"? There's more than one?” Hank asked.

“Victim one, who has been identified as Justin Murray, was taking his dog, victim two, on what appears to be a late-night or early-morning walk when they were attacked,” he said, pointing at the two bodies covered by yellow tarps.

“They killed the dog too?” Sloane asked.

“Possibly first, which is more concerning in my book. No witnesses yet, but we do have a lot of neighbors who said they heard what they described as growling and screaming.” Nick frowned and pulled the tarp off the man. A huge chunk was missing from his neck and he hissed in sympathy. Wu wrinkled his nose and nodded. “Seems like their throats are ripped open and the blood drained, judging by the fact there's not a lot of blood on the ground…”

“Looks like something bit into his neck,” Nick agreed.

“And by "something" you mean?” he asked quietly.

“Not sure yet.” He looked at Sloane who shook her head.

“Not enough to narrow it down just yet. Not your average wesen though.”

“Uh, I'm not sure I understand what average is anymore in this city, not that I have any opinion that makes sense, 'cause, you know, I'm ready to go with vampire or wolfman. …Is that racist? Wesenist?”

“Neither.”

“Neither?”

“No, I mean, it’s not “wolfman”—that would be Monroe’s branch and they’re called “blutbad” for a reason. Any other lupine wesen too, blood would be _everywhere_.”

“…Terrifying, thank you for that clarification,” Wu said blandly.

“Wait, what about vampire?” Hank asked curiously.

She shrugged. “Couple that suck blood for one reason or another. Like the lebensauger we faced before. But none of them leave marks like that either. This is like…stabbing a beer can in order to drink it.”

“And again, thank you for that clarification,” Wu said, disgusted. “You guys can shoot more theories later, in private maybe?”

“Right, sorry,” Nick said, a little amused by Wu’s cringe face.

“Anyway, neighbor found them this morning,” he went on. “Recent immigrant from Ecuador, Manuel Fierros. Mr. Fierros!” He called. An older gentleman looked up at his name and nodded to the officer that had been taking his statement before walking over to them.

“Yes?” he asked.

“This is detective Burkhardt, detective Larson, and detective Griffin. They want to ask you a few questions.” He nodded, looking at them.

“You found the body?” Nick asked while Hank took notes.

“Yes. I find them _muy temprano_ , um, is early. I call 911. I see run... walk him every night with his dog,” he said in broken English.

“Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“I living with my cousin.”

“Did you see anything else unusual, any other people or cars driving by?”

“No, I think that's it, but I hear him scream. I was asleep, and I hear him. I come outside and find him... them _muertos_.” He sighed, looking at them sadly.

“All right, thank you, Mr. Fierros,” Hank said, grabbing a card out of his pocket to hand him. “If you can think of anything else, please...”

“But I know,” he said, confused as he took the card.

“What?” Nick asked, confused as well.

“I know what kill him.”

They looked at one another and then back at him. “I thought you said you didn't see what happened,” Sloane asked.

“I did not see. I know,” he said more firmly. He gestured at the bodies. “You see this? Blood of man and animal. _Es el Chupacabra._ ”

All eyebrows ticked up. “Uh, excuse me? Chupacabra?” Wu asked. “The urban legend Chupacabra, that Chupacabra?”

“Only Chupacabra kill like this,” he nodded.

Nick looked at Sloane, but she shook her head slightly. This was news to her…

When they returned to the station, they got to work researching. Sloane sighed however, rubbing over her eyes. She was still having some trouble sleeping and while Grimms could do fine on limited sleep and even a night or two without it, she was starting to feel the lag. Leaning back, she closed her eyes to try and rest them.

Hank frowned. “Everything okay there, Sloane?”

“Yeah, just…little eye strain.”

Nick looked at her and frowned as well. “You need a break?”

“No, I can keep going…”

“If you need to rest your eyes it’s fine. We’re still waiting on a lot of inquiries to come back.”

“Yeah. Why don’t you go take a walk for a bit?” Nick suggested.

She hummed but then sighed and nodded. “Alright, sure. I might run a quick errand while I’m at it.”

“Sure. We’ll update you when you get back or let you know if anything comes up,” Hank said.

“Thanks,” she nodded, heading to her car. She then drove over to the Spice Shop and headed inside. “Rosalee?”

“In here!”

She headed to the side room and paused in surprise when she saw Juliette. “Oh! Hey, I didn’t know you were here…”

“Yeah, I just, um…had something to talk to Rosalee about…I just got here too.”

“I was making some tea. C’mon, we can all chat…uh, right?”

Juliette looked at Sloane and smiled a little awkwardly. “Well…yeah, maybe you could help me figure this out too.”

“You have a problem?” Sloane asked, walking over while Rosalee set down some tea for all of them.

“Yeah. I came because I’ve just been having a lot of aches and pains. And they haven’t gone away. I couldn’t join anyone in Idaho because of them. Now I’m getting them more often and I’m getting nauseous and…”

“I suggested she might be pregnant,” Rosalee said, smiling.

Sloane gasped as she was sipping her tea and turned away as she coughed. Rosalee was surprised and went over to pound on her back. _Pregnant?! But then…no, yeah, i-it makes sense. Of course, she and Nick might be expecting a kid. Stop feeling so…betrayed! There is no reason too!_

“You okay?” Juliette asked.

“Y-yeah, sorry, just wasn’t expecting that,” she gasped, knocking on her chest softly. “Uh…congrats?”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you both, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on,” Juliette said.

“Did you have an ultrasound?” Rosalee asked, sitting back down between them. Sloane drank her tea to clear her throat and try to hide relief.

“No, but I took a pregnancy test three times. I'm not pregnant,” she said. Sloane thought she might’ve detected a bit of relief in her voice as well.

Rosalee sighed, disappointed but worried as well. “Well, maybe you should have an MRI, then…”

Juliette shook her head, sighing as well. “I've been under a lot of stress. I think I just need something for the nausea.”

“What about the headaches?”

“That too. …Sloane, this started happening after we got Nick’s powers back. Do you think maybe it’s still a problem with that?”

“Oh, I…don’t know,” she said honestly. “I mean, I had no idea a Hexenbiest could take a Grimm’s power that way to start with. I think probably Renard’s mother, or another Hexenbiest would be a better source for that.”

“It’s okay, I knew that might be the case,” she nodded. “Doesn’t hurt to ask though. I’m not all that worried, I don't think it's anything life-threatening if I’m still standing after two months.”

“Oh, it's serious, but it's not life threatening,” Rosalee said.

“I don't even think it's that serious.”

“You said it was getting worse though?” Sloane asked, worried now.

“Nick had headaches after what we went through. It could just be one of the side effects,” Juliette said, trying to make things sound better.

“Let's hope not,” Rosalee said. “I'm gonna put together a few things for you. I'll give you enough to hold you over while we're gone, but if it gets worse, you need to see a doctor.”

“Yes, mom,” Juliette said teasingly. Rosalee laughed and got up to get a few things together. “Still can't believe you guys are finally going on your...”

“Don't jinx it!” Rosalee said quickly, looking back at her from putting something into a bag. They all chuckled, and Juliette’s cellphone went off.

“Right, sorry,” she said, pulling out the phone. She smiled and accepted the call. “Hey, babe. …No, I'm at the spice shop with Rosalee and Sloane…Yeah, Sloane’s here,” she looked at Sloane and mouthed Nick. Sloane wondered what happened. “No, there's not a problem. They're still going.”

“Don't jinx it!” Rosalee called again.

She laughed but listened to Nick again before nodding. “Yeah. I'll tell her and we’ll meet you there. Okay. Bye.” She hanged up and looked at Sloane. “So, Nick wants to meet at the trailer. He thinks I can help find something for a case?”

“Oh yeah, you’re fluent in Spanish,” she said, remembering that now. “Someone and their dog were killed last night. Heavily Hispanic/Latino neighborhood. One of the residents thinks it was the Chupacabra.”

“That exists?” Juliette asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe?” she said, shrugging. “We’re not sure but there’s a chance if it does it might be in Spanish.”

She nodded. “Okay. I’m happy to help of course, whatever I can do.”

“This will hopefully help,” Rosalee said, handing her the bag. She looked at Sloane. “What about you? I mean, I’m happy to see you of course, but it’s rare you turn up all of a sudden. Was it about the case?”

“No, um…It’s nothing, really.”

She frowned more. “Sloane…”

“…I just…am having trouble sleeping, that’s all. Wanted to see if you had anything I could take,” she admitted.

“Of course, that’s pretty common,” she smiled. She walked over to a shelf and grabbed a box, going over to her to hand it over. “This is an old recipe my father used for years, a special tea blend. Should help.”

She smiled and took it, looking it over. “Thanks, I’ll give this a try then. And I don’t want to jinx you, but I do want you to have a safe trip.”

“Aw, Thanks,” she said, giving her and Juliette a hug.

“You put that sign up as soon as we leave and have a fantastic time,” Juliette said, gesturing at the _Closed: On Honeymoon!_ Sign she had printed out.

“Thanks, I will,” she nodded. Both ladies headed for the door. “I'll see you in a couple weeks! Very tan!”

They left and headed out and over towards where they parked. “…Um, Sloane…can I ask you a personal question?”

Sloane blinked and paused. “Um…depends on the question if I’ll answer but you can ask…”

“I just…have you ever thought about kids?”

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Oh! Um…yes. But…” She sighed, pulling her hair back. “When I was younger, Collin always talked about them like it was inevitable. And I figured sure, someday. But then I went out on my own and…I don’t know. I mean before, when I was traveling all the time, I thought I decided it was something I shouldn’t do. And my mother and I don’t have a great relationship…”

“Yeah…the Grimm life seems rough to raise kids,” she said. It sounded like she’d thought about it before.

“…Not gonna lie, yeah, it is. And dangerous, even if you don’t travel around. Maybe more so. But…you know, if you and Nick ever did…have kids, you’d have one hell of a back up system with all of us. You know we’d protect all of you.”

Juliette smiled and hugged her, surprising Sloane. “I know…I just…I’m honestly glad I’m not. Because I just don’t think it’s a good time, you know?”

“Yeah…no, I understand,” Sloane said, patting her back. “And I think Nick would too if you did talk about it with him. He…doesn’t seem like Collin. He wouldn’t force the issue. Literally…”

“No, God, he’d never,” she agreed, pulling back. “I am so sorry you had to even know that guy, he sounds like a monster.”

She nodded and sighed. “Well, he’s the only real boyfriend I’ve had. Any wonder why it put me off them?” she joked.

“Well…if you’re ever interested, I might know some guys,” she said teasingly.

“Ah, maybe when we’re not currently hunting a killer creature,” she said.

“Seems like you’re always hunting though,” Juliette pointed out. “I’m not trying to pressure you—If you’re happy on your own that’s great! I just thought maybe, if you were avoiding it before, it could be something good to try again.”

“Maybe…” She could never tell her the one man that had caught her eye was Juliette’s own boyfriend. That was wrong on so many levels. Juliette was great and she didn’t want to break them up, honestly. She wanted them to be happy. “I’ll let you know if I think the time is right.”

She nodded, smiling as they headed to their cars.

\----------------

Nick and Hank had continued a bit of research while Sloane was gone. They got their background back on their victim: Justin Murray had transplanted from New York seven years ago. Nothing else about him stood out or seemed to point to a reason someone would come after him. Out of curiosity, Nick looked up Chupacabra. The first thing he found broke the word down to its meaning, which was essentially “Goat Sucker”. Apparently, it was something believed by many Spanish-speaking countries and colonies to prey on the blood of livestock. Since Juliette was fluent, they decided to ask for her help in research. That’s why they’d called when they did. They opted to go to the trailer because Sloane was sure—after organizing her collection again while her leg had been recovering—she had nothing about Chupacabra in her books. So, they started looking through the books as soon as they all arrived.

“My grandma used to blame the Chupacabra for everything...” Juliette said, looking through some of the pages of a book. “Dead relatives, missing pets, even lost keys.”

“Then according to your grandmother, a Chupacabra is a pet-eating, key-stealing, goat-sucking killer,” Hank said playfully.

“And I thought we wore a lot of hats,” Sloane smirked.

“It is especially dangerous if you are out alone at night or you get into a car with a boy or come home late. I learned that the last two weren't exactly true,” she said, smiling back.

“I might have something,” Nick said suddenly. “A Waeldreor. I mean, it's Puerto Rico 1975. It's in Spanish.”

Juliette walked over, leaning over him a little to look at the book. Sloane tried to ignore a twinge in her chest, focusing on Juliette’s translation.

“"I followed the rumors to a small town of moca in Puerto Rico where the locals had dubbed it _el vampiro de moca._ Initially I had suspected it was Wesen. I was only half right. Whatever it had once been, it was now horribly deformed and seen by all. Whatever the disease was... Mange, rabies, malaria, perhaps even leprosy... Completely transfigured the Wesen into what has been known since the middle ages as a Waeldreor. The Wesen was buried beneath the disease. "”

“Waeldreor are Wesen that contracted some kind of disease?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, seems like,” Nick nodded, turning a page.

“That's it! That's the Chupacabra,” Juliette said, pointing to a picture of a canine-like wesen with wild eyes and blood dropping from its nose and mouth. “That is exactly what it looks like, according to my grandma.”

“It’s like the grausen then maybe?” Sloane asked, remembering the parasite Daniel Keary had to deal with that turned him into a little monster.

“Maybe? But that was a parasite, who knows if that’s what this is. It might be a viral infection,” Juliette sighed.

Nick’s phone rang as they spoke, and he picked it up. “Yeah, Monroe…Slow down. What's up?...We're on our way.” He quickly stood and ended the call.

“What happened?” Sloane asked.

“The Secundum Naturae Ordinem Wesen are back, and Monroe is not happy.”

They all quickly followed him out and to their cars to head back to the shop as fast as they can. When they get there, Monroe lead them to the back where a dead, gutted fox was hanging by its tail over the shop’s back door.

“I didn't touch it,” Monroe said, agitated. “I didn't think you'd want me to.”

Nick nodded. “We're gonna need it as evidence…”

“When did you find it?” Hank asked.

“I didn't. Rosalee did. She, uh... she got a call here earlier today,” he said, anger flaring.

“I'm assuming the caller wasn’t stupid enough identify themselves,” Sloane said, angry as well.

“Nope. He just said if she didn't leave me, it would be her blood next.”

Sloane’s anger flared with his again. _I’m going to gut them when I find them!_

“Well, we can run the number, but my guess is he made the call from a burner,” Nick sighed.

“I find who did this, they're dead,” Monroe growled, pacing back into the shop.

“I’ll help,” Sloane agreed. Monroe nodded, glad they were aligned on this, though Nick sighed.

“We think it was somebody at your wedding who told somebody else,” he said.

“What?” Monroe gasped, betrayed.

“Before she left, Trubel was able to identify some people who we think might be members of this group. I've been monitoring two of them.”

“Give me their names,” Monroe said, eyes reddening slightly.

“Not yet,” Nick said firmly. “We don't know how many people are involved. And we can't take a chance on blowing it. We've got to get 'em all.”

“He won’t tell me either,” Sloane muttered, folding her arms.

“They threatened Rosalee directly. They could have killed her,” Monroe said, agitated still.

“You just need to make it through one more day,” Nick said soothingly. “Then you get to go on your trip, and we’ll take care of this.”

Hank’s phone rang and he pulled it up. “It's Wu. I'm gonna put him on speaker. Wu, what do you got?” he asked, putting the phone on the table near them.

“There was another attack. Happened in the parking garage of St. Joe's. Same M.O.”

“Any witnesses?” Nick sighed.

“Yeah, a couple for good or bad. Good news is the victim survived. They took him right into the hospital. He's stable.”

“What about the attacker?” Hank asked.

“Got away.”

“And a description?”

“That’s the bad news because oh, boy, did we get a description. Some kind of wild dog in clothes. So whatever Sloane says, I’m leaning towards wolfman.”

“We don’t appreciate that term,” Monroe muttered.

“Canvass the area. We're on our way,” Sloane said loud enough Wu would hear.

“See you soon,” he said, hanging up.

Nick sighed and looked at Monroe. “Look, we have to get to this case, but I promise you I will find whoever did this.”

“Maybe I should stick around,” Sloane suggested.

“While I’m sure you’d enjoy ripping them to shreds with Monroe, I don’t think they’ll be back tonight and we might need you with us,” Nick said. “Juliette, I think Monroe and Rosalee need to go to our house.”

“That's what I've been telling her,” Juliette said, patting Rosalee on the back. Sloane sighed but nodded since they’d at least be safer in a group.

“Call me when you get there,” Nick said, heading back out with them.”

Going to the hospital, they were able to speak with the victim, Dr. Gabe Reyes. He explained he was leaving for the day when he thought he saw his friend, Dr. Diego Hoyos, on the ground near his car. He thought he’d fallen and gone to check on him when a creature turned and attacked him. He said it was Diego’s clothes and car but that it couldn’t have been him. When another car came driving around for a space, the creature had run off and the woman driving had gotten help.

They decided to visit Dr. Hoyos to see if he was the wesen they were looking for. A sure sign was that he lived on the street their first victim and his dog were killed on.

Knocking on the door, a pretty young Hispanic woman answered. “Yes…can I help you?”

“We’re looking for Dr. Diego Hoyos?” Sloane said.

“I’m his wife…what’s this about?”

They flashed their badges. “Can we come in and ask a few questions?” Nick said. She frowned but nodded slowly and let them in. “Is your husband home?”

“I've been trying to call him, but he hasn't answered,” she said, wrapping her sweater closer around her as the cold air followed them in.

“When was the last time you spoke with him?” Hank asked.

“This morning before he went to work. Can you please tell me what this is about?”

“Your husband's partner, Dr. Reyes...He was attacked earlier this evening,” Nick said.

“Oh, my God. Is Gabe okay?” she asked, horrified.

“He's recovering in the hospital.”

“We believe your husband might have seen what happened,” Hank said.

“He was there?”

“We think your husband may have been involved,” Nick amended, trying to be delicate.

She looked shocked and slowly shook her head. “No. No, I don't believe it! He wouldn’t!” As she got more upset, she woged suddenly. Soft brown fur sprouted all over her and her face turned dog-like with pointed ears and big brown eyes. She gasped, backing away, looking between Nick and Sloane in fear.

“Hey. It's all right,” Nick said quickly. “We’re not gonna hurt you or your husband, but we need to know... Is your husband also Wesen?”

She eased back slightly, nodding. “Coyotl, like me…You're the Grimm. I've been told about you. But I didn’t know there were two…”

“We try to keep it on the down low,” Sloane said. “Is your husband…generally good with people?”

“Yes! Everyone loves him, he’s the kindest and most gentle man I know! Diego wouldn't hurt anybody!”

“He might not be in his right mind is the thing,” Sloane said, turning sympathetic.

“Have you noticed any change in his behavior?” Nick asked.

“He just came back from a long trip. He was very tired. He works hard,” she said, trying to explain.

“Was your husband home all last night?” Hank asked.

She hesitated. “I…I'm not sure. When I woke up, he was just coming in. He went for a walk. He... he couldn't sleep.”

“Do you know one of your neighbors was attacked early this morning?”

She looked down, saddened. “Yes. Justin Murray. It's awful.”

“Your husband could be very sick,” Hank said. “We need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

Nick pulled one of his cards out of his wallet and handed it to her. “Call me as soon as he gets home.”

She hesitated but took the card, nodding softly.

Heading out, they were surprised to see Wu waiting. “Hey…everything okay?”

“Yes and no,” he sighed. “I…saw whatever it is your looking for. Franco and I were canvassing the area and I saw it for a second before it ran off. I got out to go after it, but then I lost track of him. It was a creature with fur and long ears and…a lot of blood around its mouth.”

“Oh geeze, Wu,” Nick sighed. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been…”

“Actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he said. “I mean, ever since the Aswang incident I’ve known and I’ve kind of braced myself. You know, when I wasn’t running and telling myself that not looking for trouble meant it wasn’t out there. I’ve had all these close calls where I knew you guys were looking for _something_ but managed to avoid it because…because I was real scared I was going to lose it again. Go back down that road where I was seeing monsters everywhere and feeling like I can’t do anything. Because even knowing doesn’t prepare you for some things. But I saw it, and I went after it. I didn’t run from it. I wasn’t…terrified of it. I was more thinking “I can’t let that thing hurt someone else.” And that’s like why I became a cop.”

They all smiled in relief and nodded. “That’s good,” Nick said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “That’s what all of us thinking when this kind of thing happens.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yep. Welcome to Team Grimm,” Sloane smiled.

“…Huh…Um, well, he still got away though.”

“It happens,” Hank sighed. “We’re going down some leads right now. Owner of this house, Dr. Hoyos, may be who we’re looking for.”

He looked at the house and swallowed but nodded. “What is he?”

“If it’s what we think, he’s a very sick Coyotl,” Sloane said. “He may not be aware of what he’s doing. We need to do more research and see if we can cure him and…where we go from there.”

“Cure?”

“We try to avoid killing when possible,” Nick reminded him. “We think this is like a virus that’s causing him to…go feral. Rabid, but not like rabies. And we think that that is the source of the Chupacabra, that it’s wesen with this virus.”

“So, Mr. Fierros was right,” she added.

“Wow…so there’s things like that? Wesen viruses?”

“More things in heaven and earth,” Hank said sagely.

“Unfortunately, not many of our ancestors leaned that way and sent them to heaven or hell,” Sloane said. “So, we need to catch him first and try to research what to do with him to stop it.”

“…Have you considered a big net?”

They all smiled a bit at the joke. Then a scream split the night air and they all turned to the house. “Oh shit!” Sloane said, running back for the door with them. They found a Coyotl that looked half mangled with mange attacking Mrs. Hoyos. Nick and Hank rushed him, grabbing him and hauling him away while she held onto the scratches at her neck.

“Wu, get her!” Sloane yelled, trying to maneuver her cuffs around him. Wu roused himself from shock and rushed to grab Belem, pulling her away. As they got the cuffs around Diego’s wrists and turned him over, he woged back. He looked sweaty, feverish and had blood around his mouth. He was shaking and his eyes were glassy, unfocused and unsure what was going on.

“He’s not in good shape…I’ll call Monroe and Rosalee, see if they can meet us at the shop,” Nick said.

“They can help with this?” Wu asked, looking at Diego with wide eyes.

“Rosalee is an herbalist and apothecary specializing in this,” Sloane said.

“They can help my husband?” Belem asked.

“We’re going to try. You can come with us, but we need to go now,” Sloane said, helping to get Diego to his feet and out to their car.

Getting to the shop wasn’t as hard as they worried about, but Rosalee and Monroe were immediately in action when they got through the door and they saw Diego. “Oh, we have to hurry,” Rosalee said. “If he's had the disease for more than 48 hours, he could permanently become a Waeldreor.”

“"Permanently"? As in forever?” Monroe asked, looking over the book with her again.

“Well, they don't live that long. Sorry,” she added, noting Belem’s worried look. She went over to a book and Sloane went over to see it while she read off the ingredients. The page showed a wesen turning into a Chupacabra but called it “Ka Dinga Pepo”—The Devil’s Disease, or so the translation under it said. Sloane was relieved she knew what this was. Looking up cures for wesen diseases was never something a Grimm did so none of her books or Nick’s likely had anything. “Okay, we need dried papaya leaf, ground tawa-tawa herb. The vial's in the top drawer right there,” she said to Monroe.

“I know. I know,” he nodded, grabbing the bottles.

“India pennywort, got that,” she said, going over to one shelf. “Oh, shoot, we're almost out.”

“How bad is "almost out"?” Hank asked, standing by Diego to watch him. He was leaning into his wife who was gently stroking his hair.

“I only have enough for one dose,” she sighed, shaking the jar a bit.

“Well, one is all we need,” Nick said.

She nodded, going back to the book. ““Grind the ingredients together with liquefied cow's knees.””

“"Cow's knees"?” Hank asked, unsure if he heard right.

“Radix cyathulae seu achyranthis...Chinese herb,” she clarified as Monroe climbed a nearby ladder to a higher shelf. “We need to inject the mixture into his spine. Hank, could you get a syringe out of that top drawer?”

He quickly went over to the drawer. “Got it. Where are the needles?

“Back of the drawer,” Monroe said.

“We're gonna have to heat this up,” Rosalee said, starting to get the ingredients together.

“Where's the burner?” Sloane asked.

“Right here behind the counter,” Monroe said, helping her grab it and get it quickly set up.

As they did, Belem suddenly reeled and then fell to the floor.

“Oh, no. She's fainted!” Rosalee said, moving towards her.

“No, stay back,” Nick said quickly. Wu moved away from her, unsure now. As Nick knelt, she started shaking and shuddering. “She's convulsing!”

“Oh crap…he must’ve gotten his blood in those wounds!” Sloane hissed. “Nick!”

As they watched she rose slightly, feverish and eyes bright. She woged and her form was no longer furry but covered in leathery, scabbed skin and she growled low.

“Don't anybody move,” Monroe said.

“That doesn't sound like a strategy,” Nick said between his teeth. Belem snarled and swiped as if to take his head off with her clawed hand. He ducked out of the way and grabbed her around the middle, slamming her down. Sloane felt suddenly ill, thinking about her dreams—about Amy preparing to stab Nick. But unlike the dreams, when she moved her legs took her flying across the room and she got to them, forcing Belem’s head down with an arm over her neck.

“Put your cuffs on her!” Nick yelled.

“Just a second!” Hank yelled back, trying to maneuver her around. Wu had his hand on his gun as he watched. Monroe grabbed the syringe where he left it and brought it to Rosalee to load. Once it was ready she quickly walked over to them as they turned her over, but Sloane held up a hand.

“Wait, there’s only have one dose,” Sloane pointed out.

“Which one do we give it to?” Rosalee asked. She was right next to Diego and gasped when he surged up suddenly.

“Rosalee!” Monroe yelped. Diego’s hands went up and grasped the syringe just as Wu and Hank pulled their guns.

“I got to take him!”

“No, don't shoot!” Nick said. Sloane had to quickly move back as Diego brought the syringe down into Belem’s back, injecting her. Everyone was frozen in shock and he pulled it out slowly. She convulsed again and he turned her over as she woged back.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” he said, reaching up with his cuffed hands to stroke her cheek even as she looked at him with growing tears. She knew what he’d done. “ _Belem, mi Amor..._ ” he said softly. His face was rippling as though to woge, but he was fighting it to keep looking at her. “I love you…”

Sloane was shocked. And further shocked how _painful_ it was to see this. She’d been terrified of Belem hurting Nick, but now she had to watch as that same woman was saved by the man she loved at the cost of his own life.

They all knew how this was about to play out. Hank took a breath and though he didn’t want to, he brought the gun up. “Back away…”

He looked up at him, and at Nick and Sloane. “Kill me…” he pleaded, his face rippling more.

Nick shook his head. “We can help you…”

“Just…a little time,” Sloane said.

He closed his eyes as if in pain, the ripples going faster. “No,” he choked out, in pain. “It's too late.” He slowly rose and woged once again, snarling at them. When he moved, Hank and Wu both fired twice into his chest. Belem screamed and he went down, gasping a searing breath through the wounds. He turned back again, slumping against one of the columns as he tried to breathe. Wu and Hank lowered their gun and Wu looked more horrified at what he’d just done. Belem quickly crawled to him and he looked at her. “ _Te amo…_ ” he whispered again, his last breath.

“Diego,” she choked, reaching up to cup his face. She watched his eyes dim and his body sagged as the life left him. She sobbed and leaned in, crying.

\----------------

“You okay?” Sloane asked, dropping Wu off back at his car. They’d figured out to take Diego’s body back home. Belem cried the whole way but said she’d call it in and say that it was a home invasion. Wu was going to be the first on scene. She was still in shock but knew they’d tried to save him. It was Diego’s choice that she’d be saved instead. Nick was already calling Renard to tell him what happened and make some arrangements.

“…I know that…that in that moment I had to do that or one of us was going to get hurt. But…Is it bad I didn’t really think about wesen being _people_. I mean, I know we know some and you say they don’t do anything bad, I just…thought they might be the exception, not the rule. I didn’t think about how some might get sick. Might sacrifice themselves for love…”

“…I didn’t think about that much most of my life,” Sloane said. “It’s only recently I really let myself get close to them.”

“…He was a good man.”

Sloane sighed and nodded. “Yeah. You are too, for the record. This doesn’t change that. It’s just…a lot of bad luck.” She frowned. It was an awful explanation. She hated thinking about “bad luck”—that things didn’t happen for a reason. But it was true. Chaos happened, death and accidents happen. Illness happened. _What can I save anyone from?_ It was a question she’d asked herself as a child after her grandmother died. The answer she wanted was _anything._ It was rarely the answer she got.

Wu smiled, not knowing about her inner turmoil, then sighed. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Gotta take care of everything here, then I should probably get some rest.”

She nodded, heading back to the car. They escorted Monroe and Rosalee home and called in to let them know they needed protection for the night. She hugged Rosalee. “It’s not your fault,” she said quietly.

Rosalee was surprised but smiled sadly and hugged her back. “Part of me knows that…the other part is cursing not ordering more pennywort last fall. Maybe not giving it to him fast enough and getting some for her…”

“Not. Your. Fault,” she said again, squeezing her. She pulled back and smiled. “I want you to go on your honeymoon tomorrow and remember that you still saved someone. He just chose who for you. Don’t let it mess up your happy time.”

“She’s right,” Nick said. He smiled, Monroe and Hank close behind him. They’d been making sure all the doors and windows were locked, and that the officer they’d asked Renard to send over was ready and in place outside in his car. “And while you’re gone, we’ll be hard at work. We're gonna try get a lead on who made the call to Rosalee.”

“We're gonna get this thing wrapped up before you get back,” Hank added.

“I hope to God it's nobody we know,” Rosalee sighed.

“Well, it's gonna be somebody who knows somebody we know,” Monroe said, putting an arm around her.

“Whatever happens, whatever we find out, we are not calling you while you're gone,” Nick said.

“The officer will stay outside until you leave in the morning,” Hank added. “Any calls that come in on any of your phones will be recorded.”

“And then once we find them, I will burn them alive,” Sloane said with the same comforting tone. This was how it should be. No one should be worried about her.

“Sloane,” Nick warned.

“Fiiiine…I’ll kill them first then burn them.”

They laughed, Nick shaking his head a little as they all hugged.

“Thank you all,” Rosalee said.

“Have a good time.”

“Have a Mai Tai for me,” Hank said, heading out the door.

“More than one, my friend,” he called back. Sloane sighed as they headed for their squad car, waving at Officer Acker in the car before they headed out.

\----------------

**Wesenrein & Tribunal**

**\-------------------**

When she got home, Sloane sighed and rubbed over her face. Diego’s death left a bad feeling in her. By all reports the man was a great doctor and cared about people. He loved his wife enough to sacrifice himself for her. The fact he was dead now was sad, but the fact that it wasn’t even a malicious force made it worse—there was no one to seek vengeance against or feel like they could stop. It was an illness. It could and would happen again. He’d pleaded for death in the end rather than hurt anyone else.

And the worst part was in a sick way she envied them. A love that strong wasn’t something you saw every day in real life and to see it in action was a bit humbling. He probably heard them say 48 hours, he could’ve taken the risk and cured himself to see if they could cure his wife. Instead he gave her the antidote right away rather than flip that coin and let himself fall. Sloane wondered if she could ever do something like that.

It also made her wonder about her crush on Nick. Yeah, she’d rushed to try and help him, but she would’ve done that regardless. Feeling more was pointless. He loved Juliette. Hell, his feeling for her broke spells! And she loved him. What was the point falling for him? _Maybe…maybe I just want that. Maybe I’m latching on to Nick because he’s pretty much the nicest guy I’ve ever known. Like really known, on a deeper level. He’s one of my best friends. Yeah, that’s it. I’m not in love with him! I’m just confused because he’s a decent guy._ She nodded to herself, thinking that was what made the most sense. She then went to get ready for bed. She didn’t want to, thinking about how she might have another nightmare. Maybe she should ask Rosalee when she got back if she had something to make them go away?

She set her electric kettle on to try some of that tea and went to go change for a shower when her phone rang. She’d picked up the habit from Nick of personalizing ring tones and she recognized “Every Rose has it’s Thorn” by Poison as Rosalee’s song quickly. She grabbed it off her bedside table and answered. “Hey, Rosalee—”

“Sloane, they took Monroe!” she practically shouted.

Sloane turned to stone a moment, wondering if she heard that right. “I-what?”

“They took Monroe! H-he went outside, and they must’ve grabbed him, he’s gone, and Officer Acker is on the ground!”

“Okay, where are you?” Sloane said, immediately going into crisis control.

“In the house.”

“Did you lock the doors and call 911?”

“Y-yes! Oh my God, Sloane,” she sobbed.

“Listen to me: Stay inside, away from the windows. Keep the doors locked and wait for 911, I’ll get Nick and Hank and we’ll be there soon.”

“O-okay.”

“I’m going to hang up now to call them but text me if 911 gets there first.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to get as calm as Sloane was. Having her give orders was strangely reassuring.

Sloane hanged up and quickly got dressed again before rushing to the car, trusting the kettle to shut itself off as it usually did. She called Nick from the car and found once again she was glad she paid for the deluxe model with blue tooth. “Sloane? What’s up?”

“Rosalee just called me, Monroe is missing,” she said, reversing quickly out of her driveway.

“What?” both men barked.

“What about Acker?” Hank asked.

“She said she found him on the ground. She’s called 911. I’m heading over there now, can you two get there?”

“Yeah, we were almost to Hank’s house, but I can get around,” Nick said.

“Good, I’ll meet you there.” She hanged up and focused on driving, getting to Rosalee’s in record time. So did Nick and Hank thanks to the lights and siren on their car and they pulled up together around the cop cars that had already arrived. They found Officer Acker standing nearby with an ice pack on his head. He was a thin, reedy man with sandy blonde hair. He looked up at them with a remorseful look, but another officer first met them.

“What happened?” Nick asked.

“Officer Acker saw someone on the street, he got out of his car to investigate, he got cracked on the head and dragged somewhere up there.”

“Any witnesses?” Sloane asked.

“Not sure, we're working on it.” The nodded, going over to Acker to get a direct update.

“How you doing?” Hank asked.

“I feel terrible, man,” he sighed. “It's all my fault…”

“Can you tell us what you saw?” Nick said.

“Not much. I thought I saw something, got outside to look, was hit from behind.” He turned to show them a nasty bump on his head.

“You see any vehicles?”

“No. It happened so fast.”

“Why were you out here alone?” Sloane said, a little angry.

“I figured it would be better if my partner rested up, we took things in shifts…” he said sheepishly.

Nick put a hand on Sloane’s shoulder, trying to silently tell her to calm down. She huffed but looked away from them. “Alright, take it easy,” Hank said, nodding to Acker as they turned to head inside.

Rosalee had obviously been crying but she stood up quickly when they came through the door. “Did you find out anything?”

“Officer Acker was hit from behind. He didn't see anything,” Nick said, his agitation making him talk quickly.

“We've got somebody talking to neighbors to see if anybody saw anything,” Hank added

Her face screwed up and she hugged herself. “We need to find him before they hurt him!”

Sloane walked over and Rosalee hugged her even before her arms were all the way open. “We will,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, we will. But right now, I need you to calm down and answer a few questions, okay?” Nick said, calming down and talking soothingly.

She gave a shuddering breath but nodded, pulling back enough she could talk. “Okay…Okay.”

“You said you went outside?”

“To look for Monroe. He brought officer Acker something to eat and he didn't come back,” she said, trying to not break down again.

“Did you hear anything?”

“No, I was on the phone with my mom,” she said, her voice cracking a bit. Sloane rubbed her back slightly.

“Any other calls? Threats?” Hank asked.

“Not since the spice shop. If they hurt Monroe, I'm gonna kill them. I will hunt them down and I will kill every one of them!” she snarled, venom in her voice. Sloane would normally be a bit concerned but she understood why all things considered Rosalee was ready to kill. She had been slightly joking when she threatened to kill these bastards earlier—figuring they were a bunch of cowards as most racists were—but now they showed they were serious. So, she would get serious as well.

“Right now, what I want you to do is grab what you need,” Nick was saying. “I'm gonna have someone take you to our house.”

“No. What if they call?” Rosalee asked in fear.

“We'll forward any calls to you on your cell,” Hank said. “We don't want you here.”

“They’re right,” Sloane said. Rosalee looked at her and she squeezed her slightly. “I’ll be on the case with them, so you’ll be safer with Juliette.”

“And I will call you as soon as we find out anything,” Nick said. Rosalee sighed, looking close to breaking, but she finally nodded and moved away from Sloane’s arm. “Hey, Rosalee. We will find him. Okay?” She sniffed but nodded to him and he nodded back. “Now grab your stuff. I'll call Juliette.”

Sloane followed Rosalee, part paranoid and part wanting to be there for her. She was stuffing some clothes into a bag and had to pause as she started crying. “Rosalee…” Sloane said, going over. She turned and hugged Sloane again, sobbing. Sloane held her close, unsure what to say.

“I’m scared…” she sobbed.

“…I know. We are too. But we’re going to get these bastards and we will get Monroe back. I promise you.”

“Sloane, don’t make promises you can’t—”

“I _promise_ you,” she said again, the conviction in her voice sounding like a spell, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I’m getting him back and they will pay for hurting my friends.”

\----------------

“Why'd you get out of your car?” Hank asked. They were back at the station. Nick had two female officers take Rosalee to his house after calling Juliette. Now they were sitting to ask Officer Ackerman for some more details.

“Kid walked by the house wearing a hoodie. I didn't think anything about it, except a few minutes later I thought I saw the same guy cross the street, so I went to go check it out.”

“Was it the same guy?”

“Couldn't tell, it was dark. He was near the trees. I was about to call it in. That's when I got hit. Went for my weapon, got hit again. Don't remember anything after that. Just waking up in the woods and hearing the wife scream.” He pantomimed a bit as he spoke, wincing at the bump on his head. He was a younger officer, fresh faced and obviously new to the hot seat. “I know I screwed this up, you guys, I'm sorry.”

“It happens,” Nick sighed. “Go home, get some rest.”

“All right,” he nodded. He glanced at Sloane, knowing she was angry. But she nodded to him as well and he quickly got up to retreat while he could.

“Why'd he wait to call it in?” Nick asked, watching him go.

“Maybe he's trying to be a hero,” Hank suggested.

“He failed,” Sloane said.

“He’s young and new to the force. I know you bypassed that stage, but we all make mistakes while in the blues.”

“I made mistakes as a kid and got the scars to prove it,” Sloane said a bit more waspishly. She then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry…just…”

“We know,” Nick said, patting her back. “We’re all on edge.” He noted the dark circles under her eyes. Trubel saying she was having nightmares came back to him and he frowned, wondering if he’d neglected trying to talk to her for too long.

“We should go talk to Renard,” Hank said, gesturing to the office.

Nick and Sloane nodded, and Nick grabbed the file of info they had gathered already to take in. Renard seemed on edge as well but nodded to them when they came in and immediately closed the door. “I heard something’s happened to Monroe and Rosalee?”

“Yeah. They were facing some scare tactics from a Wesen hate group,” Sloane said.

“Secundum naturae Ordinem Wesen. Also known as Wesenrein. Heard of it?” Nick asked.

“Unfortunately,” Renard sighed. “While I’m not blind to how many Wesen live, I’m rather disgusted by them. They’re actions are a choice.”

“Well, they’ve reached that level here. They kidnapped Monroe,” Hank said.

Renard sat up straighter. “Damn…Rosalee?”

“Not taking it well but safe,” Nick said. He pulled out a sheet of a paper from the file and held it out to him. “This is a list of the people we think are involved in taking Monroe.”

“Trubel did some work on this before she left,” Hank explained. “She found a Wesenrein mask on one of them.”

He looked over the paper but sighed. “Being part of a hate group is not a crime.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Sloane said in disgust.

“Agreed but I can’t change the law at my level. You have any evidence tying them to the kidnapping?”

“Yeah, we have a brick through the window of the spice shop that had a symbol of the wolfsangel on it. And then they burned the wolfsangel in Monroe and Rosalee's front yard,” Nick said.

“And they gutted a fox and hung it on their backdoor,” Hank added.

“So, we know this group is involved, and the longer this goes on, the less likely we are to find Monroe alive.”

“And if we don’t, I promise all of the people on that list will be dead,” Sloane said. Her tone was not darkly playful as it sometimes was threatening violence. She was serious. And Nick and Hank didn’t dissuade her.

“We need to move quickly. Starting with the first name on that list, Shaw Steinkellner,” Hank said.

Renard looked at them and then nodded. “Bring him in. We’ll see what to do from there.”

They nodded, heading out quickly.

\----------------

Shaw was not a small man. For a klaustreich, he was built like a bear and just as hairy with his long beard and wavy hair down to his shoulder blades. They pulled up to his house just as he was leaving, and their breaks screamed as they pulled to a stop and jumped out.

Shaw stopped still and held up his hands. “I already told your Grimm friend I got no beef with you!”

“Monroe... where is he?” Nick said. “You know the Wesenrein have him.”

“Don't know what you're talking about,” he denied.

“Well, we think you do,” Hank said.

Shaw eyed them then darted, trying to run. Sloane had been ready though, moving just out of his immediate vision. And in the direction she figured he’d go. In two strides got in front of him and clothes lined him hard with her arm to his neck, sending him down. He gasped, looking up at her in confusion. “Do NOT make us chase you,” she warned. Nick and Hank came over and handcuffed him quickly.

Hank patted him down for any weapons and pulled out a mask like the one Trubel had found on the schakal before. “Well, what do you know?” Shaw huffed, rolling his eyes as they hauled him up and to the car to take him in. They got him to an interrogation room quickly without others seeing and immediately started in questioning after alerting Renard to get into the observation room.

“You wanna tell us about that?” Hank asked, throwing the mask down on the table.

“Cool, huh?” Shaw smirked. “Gonna wear it for Halloween.”

“So why is it in your pocket? Halloween's a long way away,” he pointed out.

“Maybe you were gonna scare some people tonight?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. Cops.”

Nick rolled his eyes and Hank continued. “You know, you could spend a lot of time in prison for kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping? What kidnapping?” he said, doing a decent enough job and seeming confused. This wasn’t his first interrogation. “You got nothing on me.”

“Tell us about the Wesenrein,” Nick said.

“What's that, some kind of beer?” The playing dumb was now getting obnoxious.

Nick sighed and looked at his partners. “Give us a minute, will ya?”

“Sure,” Hank said, going out the door. Sloane stayed behind, staring daggers into Shaw’s skull. Nick put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper. “Let me try first. Then you. No sense ruining the surprise yet.”

Sloane switched her gaze to him, unsure. But Nick’s jaw was set, and his eyes were hard. He wasn’t playing good cop bad cop—or even bad Grimm, Worse Grimm. He was itching to make Shaw talk as much as she was. But Shaw thought Nick was the only Grimm in Portland and Nick was right that it was their current and possibly only ace up their sleeve. Sighing, she headed out the door as well. She followed Hank into the observation room where Renard was already watching.

“Oh, now you're gonna get tough with me?” Shaw laughed. “What, you gonna throw me around?”

“Well, this should be interesting,” Renard said.

“If I get to be alone with him next, I’ll show you plenty of interesting,” Sloane said, folding her arms.

“You know where Monroe is, and you know who has him,” Nick said, pacing slowly by Shaw.

“Monroe? Is that his first name or last?” he quipped lightly.

“I'm not gonna ask again,” he warned.

“Good. 'Cause I'm getting kinda bored.”

“So am I.” Nick’s hand shot out like lightening, cupping the back of the man’s head and smashing it to the table with a loud bang. Sloane was a little surprised Nick did it, but she eased back slightly. Seemed he was ready to be bad cop/bad Grimm.

Shaw shouted in pain then growled and stood. “You're dead!” He woged and Nick didn’t even flinch. The fight drained out of the bigger man quick. “I-I thought you weren't a Grimm no more...” he said, voice quivering.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Nick snarled. He grabbed Shaw around his thick neck and with his innate strength, pinned him to the wall. Sloane could see it, how his skin turned pale like it did whenever he would turn into a zombie. But his eyes were clear and so was his voice with the sharp edge of anger cutting his words. “Where'd they take him? Where'd the Wesenrein take him?”

Shaw gasped and choked, unable to break the grasp as he woged back. “I…would rather be killed by a Grimm than cross the grand master,” he sputtered.

“Let's see if that's true,” Nick growled, tightening his grasp.

“He's going to kill him,” Hank gasped.

“Get him out,” Renard ordered. Hank was already moving but Sloane stayed still.

“You don't know what they'll do to me,” Shaw said.

“Where is he?!” Nick shouted.

Hank burst through the door and quickly went over to break them up. “Nick! Nick! You need to get out of here.” Nick growled in frustration but finally let go. Renard headed out of the room as well to go in as Shaw gasped, falling to his knees. Hank eyed Nick, who’s color returned quickly.

He brushed past him in agitation as Renard entered. “You all right?” Renard asked Shaw, bored.

“No! He tried to kill me! Gonna sue him. Sue all of you!” He shouted after Nick. Nick went into the observation room. Sloane nodded to him, not commenting one way or the other. He was fine with that.

“I understand you're upset,” Renard started.

“I want a lawyer!”

“See, here's the thing,” he went on patiently. “There's a more primal law at work here. Now, you're a Klaustreich, Nick's a Grimm. I wouldn't push it.” Shaw looked up at him in surprise but had the sense to settle down at the warning while Renard closed the door and went back to them.

“He knows. The son of a bitch knows,” Nick said. “I'm trying one more time.”

“No, no, no,” Renard said, holding up a hand.

“Then let Sloane do it!”

“Uh, if you think I’m going to be nicer, you’re wrong,” she said. “If I go in there, I will break the chair on his head.”

“No,” Renard said, harder. “Our best chance right now is to put Shaw back out there and see what he does.”

“We can't let him go,” Nick argued.

“Right now, we've got nothing on Shaw or any of the other guys,” Renard pointed out calmly. “Let's put someone on Shaw's house.” Nick nodded, moving to go past him but he set a hand on his chest. “Not you. You stay.” Nick looked at him indignantly, but the Captain remained firm. “Listen, we can't just put anyone on Shaw. Has Wu been informed what’s going on?”

“No,” Hank said.

“Then get him. He’s already brought himself into the Chupacabra case, now we need him here. Then Shaw can lead us to the others, and hopefully Monroe.”

Nick sighed but finally nodded, calming just slightly. Renard let him go and they all filed out to go make the next steps in preparations.

\---------------------

Nick was the one to track down Wu right as he came into the precinct. Wu was surprised but smiled. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Hey…Have you heard about Monroe?”

“Uh, no, I’ve been asleep for a while…why?” Nick looked around and motioned him to follow him into Renard’s office where the others were. Nick closed the door and Wu looked at them a bit worried. “What’s going on?”

“Monroe’s been kidnapped. By a wesen hate-group called Wesenrein,” Nick said.

“What?!” He said. “Wait, why was he kidnapped? Is he Grimm?”

“No, he’s wesen. And so’s Rosalee,” Sloane said, realizing they hadn’t told him. “This has been a problem since they got married but it’s escalated.”

“Why?”

“Monroe is a Blutbad and Rosalee is a Fuchsbau,” Nick said. “Two different wesen. Apparently some don’t like them being together. They’ve Threats, vandalism…to the point we had Officer Ackerman watching their house last night. But someone apparently got the drop on him and kidnapped Monroe.”

“Got the drop on him? Is he okay?”

“Got a bruise on his head but otherwise fine. It’s Monroe we’re really worried about. And we need your help,” Renard said.

“My help?”

“Yes. We know one man who must’ve been related, but we can’t prove he was in on the kidnapping. We have to release him. But he knows I’m a Grimm and what we all look like, so we need another cop to help keep tabs on him till we have the information we need. See if he’ll lead us to him.”

Wu nodded slowly. “A steak out.”

“Yeah. Look, I know it’ might be a lot to ask so soon, but…” Hank said, worried that Wu might get scared off again.

“No, yeah, I’m in,” he said, nodding and looking determined. “Monroe and Rosalee are good people. I’ll tell you the moment something happens.”

They smiled in relief and nodded. “Thanks. Now, this and what we do next might fall out of normal police procedures...”

“We hope you’re okay with that,” Renard added.

“Because we are,” Sloane added.

Wu looked a bit worried but finally nodded. “After last night, I figured some things might fall in that category. But if it’s for the greater good I’ll follow your leads here. Just…keep me in the loop.”

“We will, don’t worry,” Sloane said, smiling now.

He nodded. “I’ll go start now if he’s already been released.”

“Right. Call one of us directly if anything happens,” Nick said.

Wu nodded and headed out of the office again. As he was heading to the door, he was stopped by someone behind him. “Hey, sarge. Sarge, listen!” He turned, surprised to see Ackerman jogging up. “Um, you heard I messed up?” he asked, sheepish.

Wu smiled sympathetically. “I heard someone hit you. And on that note, what the hell are you doing here? You should be home, getting some sleep.”

“No, I feel like I should be doing something to make up for this,” he said, looking worried.

“Listen, you're a good cop. Sometimes it doesn't go your way,” he said.

“How can I help?” he persisted.

“Go home and get some sleep.”

“I can't do that, sergeant!”

“You can if I order you to. Go home.” He turned and headed out then, not noticing Acker’s angry glare as he left.

\--------------

Despite Wu staying in front of Shaw’s house practically all night, he was woken from a light doze by a woman screaming to find him dead at the back of his house early in the morning. He called Nick and the others immediately and they rushed over from trying to find any connection with the people of Wesenrein to where they could be keeping Monroe.

“Nobody came in or out of the front, so whoever got to him got to him back here,” Wu said, agitated. Nick knelt and pulled back the tarp. Shaw’s throat was torn open, but he was already cold and grey.

“Somebody didn't like that he talked to us,” Hank observed.

“Why would you go out the back unless you thought you were being watched?” Nick sighed.

“Somebody tipped him off,” Hank sighed.

Wu wrinkled his nose. “So, another wesen did this?”

“More than likely,” Sloane sighed.

“Great…Can you tell by the way he died what kind of wesen?”

“No.”

“No.”

“It’s a common method, so no,” Sloane sighed.

“Let's check inside,” Nick said.

“This way.” Wu led them into the house, where they started turning it upside down for anything that could point them in the right direction.

“Found something!” Hank called from the front. They walked over to see him pull out a black robe from the hall closet. A familiar symbol was stitched in front in silver and they felt their blood boil seeing it. “What do you think he wore this for?”

“That's a wolfsangel,” Nick said.

Wu however saw something else that got his attention and he marched over to a wall of photos. Pulling one off, he stared in open-mouthed disgust at the photo before turning it to them. It showed four men including Shaw on a fishing trip and one was very familiar. “Isn't this officer Acker?”

“Son of a bitch,” Sloane growled.

They got back to the precinct to update Renard, who was just as angry at the thought one of his men might be a part of this. But the evidence was stacking up considering he was on duty when Monroe was kidnapped and had distracted Wu before he left. He ordered them to get more evidence before pulling him just to be safe and keep from alerting anyone else. Wu went to pull phone records and in an hour they were pouring over them.

“I got a 1:45 A.M. call to Shaw's house from Acker,” Sloane said, highlighting the call. They were in one of the back rooms so that the others wouldn’t hear them.

“That's right after we let Shaw walk,” Nick sighed.

“And before that, he made a call to Harold Johnson who's on our Wesenrein list,” Hank added.

“Okay, this is weird. Although based on the last 24 hours, what isn't?” Wu said dryly. “Acker made 13 calls to Oregon state penitentiary. Last call was made five weeks ago. First call six months before that.”

Nick took the page when he held it up, looking it over. “Let's call the warden and see who Acker's been talking to…”

Another hour and they were following Renard back to his office and updating him.

“All Acker's calls were made to an inmate named Walker Williams,” Nick said.

“We know who he is?”

“No connection with Acker except for the phone calls that we found so far,” Sloane said. “But Acker visited him eight times in prison. So, either he’s his boyfriend or…”

“What's he in for?” Renard asked.

“Four years, for armed robbery,” Hank said, holding up a file.

“So why is Acker calling and visiting a guy in prison he doesn't seem to know? And I’m going to go ahead and say no to the boyfriend theory.”

“Sorry, must be the romantic in me,” she said snidely.

“Well, it could be Williams is making the calls for the Wesenrein,” Nick said.

“Then he'd know where Monroe is,” Hank said.

“Alright, get to Williams, fast,” Renard ordered. They nodded and rushed off again. Wu would keep looking at the information he could find while Nick, Hank and Sloane went to the prison. They had the Warden pull Walker Williams out and bring him to room for questioning. And whatever they expected, it wasn’t a small, wiry young man with wide eyes and wheat colored hair.

“Um…hello?” he said, nervous.

“Mr. Walker…” Nick said, eyeing him.

“Yes, that’s me…um, how can I help you?” He sat down in the chair opposite Nick. Hank stood against the wall by his left and Sloane paced a bit, standing behind him.

“We’re here to ask you some questions about the Wesenrein.”

“Wesenrein? Am I supposed to know what that is?” he said. He was trying too hard to sound casual though.

“Well, you know Jesse Acker,” Hank said. “He called you 13 times and visited you 8. He knows about Wesenrein, so we're pretty sure you do too.” Walker looked a bit sick but tried very hard to stay calm.

“How'd you meet him?” Nick asked.

“I forget…”

“He called you 13 times, visited you 8 more. You don't remember how you met him?”

“I meet a lot of people,” he said evasively.

“Really? You meet a lot of cops in here?” Hank asked.

He looked up, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn't know Acker was a police officer?”

“He's a cop?” he asked, shocked.

“Yeah. And we’ve figured a lot out. He’s as good as turned you over to us,” Sloane said, making him shrink down a little.

“I got nothing to do with them!”

“With who?”

“The Wesenrein! I mean, I've heard of 'em, but...”

Nick leaned in, his gaze turning flinty. “The Wesenrein kidnapped a friend of ours. We know Acker was involved, which means now you are involved. And if anything happens to him...You're never stepping foot outside this prison.”

“Provided you want to keep all your pieces where they are,” Sloane added lowly.

Walker squeaked and then woged—into a maushertz. His eyes widened when he looked at Nick. “A Grimm? No! Help! Help!” He tried to stand but Sloane grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down into the metal chair. Hank held up a hand when the guard looked in and Sloane took her hands off of him.

“Sit down and tell us what you know. Now,” she warned.

“I mean, I had nothing to do with any of it! I was only taking calls for Charlie 'cause he made me. And the visits? Those too.”

“Charlie who?” Nick asked.

“Charlie Riken. He was my cellmate. They call him the grand master. He's crazy, man! He believes in all that Wesenrein voodoo. He would've killed me if I didn't do what he asked.”

They looked at each other, annoyed that they came to another leg in their journey, but they had a name at the end of the line now. “Why'd he have you talk to Acker?” Hank asked.

“Riken didn't want anything traced back to him! I passed the names on to Charlie. It was Charlie who told Acker who to punish.”

“Riken still your cellmate?” Nick asked.

“What are you talking about? Charlie was released a month ago!” he said, looking at them desperately.

“I'll get the last known,” Hank said, heading for the door with Nick and Sloane closed behind.

“Just don't tell Charlie I told you, okay? Don't tell Charlie it was me that told you though, all right? Hold up! Hey, man!” Walker tried to follow them, but the guard stopped him in his tracks. Even so he yelled desperately, fearfully after them. “You can't tell him it was me!”

Hank had Riken’s last address within the next hour and they rushed over. The house was empty, however. They cleared it room by room, but no one was home and there was no sign of anyone coming back any time soon. Hank however did find a phone which they took back with them and Wu started a history on it.

“Were you able to make a connection between Officer Acker and Charlie Riken?” Renard asked.

“Indirectly,” Nick sighed.

“Acker got calls on a prison phone from Walker Williams, Charlie Riken's cell mate,” Hank summed up.

“But Williams is only the message boy for Riken,” Sloane said.

“Are we sure that Williams isn't just throwing the blame onto Riken?”

“Yeah. Riken's the shot caller. Got off five weeks ago. That's when Acker stopped calling and visiting,” Hank said confidently.

“We think he's the Grandmaster,” Nick said.

“Anyone contacting Rosalee? Any ransom demands for Monroe?

“This isn’t about money,” Sloane said, getting impatient. “They want to make an example out of Monroe.”

“Officer Acker's the only connection we have left,” Nick agreed.

“We have photos that tie him to Shaw, plus the calls and visits to prison. Not to mention he was the officer watching Monroe and Rosalee's house,” Hank said.

“Well, that's pretty convenient,” Renard sighed, but couldn’t argue with the stacking evidence.

“If Acker's working with the Wesenrein, he has to be Wesen,” Nick went on.

“We have to bring him in. We have to find out. We don't have much time left,” Hank said, getting more worked up.

Renard sighed but nodded. “Let's give Sergeant Wu a shot with this. He knows Acker. He's trained him. He might be able to get him to trip up before he knows we're on to him. But do you think he can handle a Woge? Because if he's not ready...I mean really ready...”

“I think he is,” Sloane said. “He handled the Chupacabra incident as well as any of us, all things considered.”

“But he did draw his weapon and shoot.”

“So, did I,” Hank said.

“You knew more what to expect. I just want to be sure that he’s not going to scream or go nuts if Acker woges on him.”

They looked at one another, unsure. Speak of the devil, Wu knocked on the door then. “Yeah?” Renard called.

He opened the door, stepping in. “The phone we found in Riken's house was used to call Monroe's house and the spice shop and _Officer Acker_ ,” he said. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, but also anger. Finding out one of your fellow officers were involved in a hate group…well, they knew it happened more often than they wanted to admit, but it made them angry.

“That's good enough for me. Bring him in. Make him sweat,” Renard ordered.

“Got it,” Wu said.

“Wu...There’s one more thing we have to ask of you.”

Wu paused, looking at them all and frowning. “What?”

\-------------------

“You'll be in there with me, right?” Bud asked nervously. “I mean, you never know what can happen. Not everybody can handle a full woge.”

“I'll be there. So will Hank and Sloane,” Nick said patiently. Renard wanted to test Wu and Bud was forcefully elected as the introduction. Sloane couldn’t deny it was a good idea to let Wu see a non-combative woge. Hopefully this would help him be a bit more ready if Acker did. They didn’t know what he was yet after all.

“Oh, good, and he knows I'm a...”

“We told him not all Wesen are bad,” Sloane said. “He knows, this is mostly a formality. Being as calm as he can in this situation is to our benefit, so we want him to meet a friendly wesen face for once. You’re like…a wesen ambassador.”

“Oh…okay, good, good. Just leave it up to me,” he said, smiling. Nick gave Sloane a smile over Bud’s head and she shrugged, just glad that it seemed to calm him down. “Why me?”

“Because there's nothing scary about you,” Nick said.

“Right, yeah…Really? Nothing at all?” he asked, a little disappointed. They went into a meeting room and he smiled again once inside. “Hey, Hank.”

Hank nodded. He’d been in there giving Wu another talk about wesen and figuring all this out. Wu for his part looked wary but calm. “Bud, this is Sergeant Wu.”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Sergeant Wu. Nice to meet you formally. I mean professionally. Not in a criminal way,” he chuckled, then cleared his throat. “So how do you want to do this?”

“Why don't you sit down?” Nick suggested.

“Sit, right, good. Good idea.” He went over and sat in one chair at the table. Wu sat at the other. There were a few seconds of silence as bud had no idea where to begin.

“Just tell him the way it happens,” Hank said,

“Right, well, the...The way it happens. Well, it happens in a lot of ways. Not always the same, but usually... usually in the usual way,” he said, twitching nervously.

Wu was searching his face then shook his head slowly. “I don't see anything…”

“What? No, no, you wouldn't. I haven't done anything yet,” he said, laughing a little.

“He hasn't woged yet,” Hank said.

“You'll know it when he does,” Nick added.

“Okay…”

“I'm just getting ready to. I mean, it's not something you jump into right off the bat, you know? You have to be emotionally ready. That is to say... it doesn't just happen.” He laughed again, nervous. He then sighed and looked up at Nick. “This isn't going well. I can feel that I'm not...Look, you just have to know that when it happens, it's not something that I can be...Uh...I can't do it. I can't woge. I'm not feeling it.” He looked at them, desperate but guilty. “I don't know why. It's... This has never happened to me before. Hank, Nick, I can't, I won't, I just, especially in a situation like this, when you know you have to-” As he was talking, brown fur sprouted from his face and hands and his front teeth elongated. Wu gasped and stood up—this was the closest he’d been to a woged wesen since the Aswang incident. Even the Chupacabra had been across a room, not a table.

“Wu, take it easy,” Nick said quickly.

Bud blinked and then lifted his more paw-like hands to his face to feel over it. He groaned in embarrassment. “Oh, no. I prematured again.”

“You all right?” Sloane asked, looking at Wu.

He nodded slowly. “I…yeah, just…I was expecting it, but it was still a surprise…”

“It’s like that sometimes,” Nick agreed. “Bud is an Eisbiber.”

“Uh-huh…An Eisbiber,” he said, testing the word. He moved in slowly. The fear he might’ve felt once was replaced with a sense of curiosity and fascination as he looked Bud over. But turned back and he watched as all the fur disappeared and he looked like a normal man again. “This…this is a woge?”

“Yeah. Now there's two kinds. One only Sloane and I can see, because we’re Grimm. The other, anybody can see.”

“And that's what Bud just showed you,” Sloane said.

“Do it again,” Wu said, smiling a little. Bud smiled wanly.

Sloane sighed in relief then set a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I need to go grab something. In case Wu questioning Acker doesn’t work, I’ll want to work him over myself.”

Nick stared at her a moment but sighed and nodded. “Go get what you need then. But be quick.”

She nodded, turning to head quickly to her car and back home. Going to her office closet, she moved a few bags around before grabbing a black bag similar to an antique doctor’s bag. She hefted and sighed at the weight. She hadn’t wanted to use this again, but it might be necessary. She also pulled down a cross bow and sword to have ready in her car.

She got back to the precinct just as Wu got Acker into the interrogation room. Sloane went in, standing next to Nick, Hank and Renard.

“What kind of cop are you?” Wu asked, closing the door.

Acker frowned in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Didn't I train you better than this?” he asked coolly.

“What're you talking about?”

“I'm talking about you can't even guard a _house._ What are you doing walking off and checking something out without calling it in?” he accused. “Now we got a kidnapping! You don't think that comes back on me?”

“I thought I saw something,” Acker said, looking down.

“What? What did you see that turned you into such an idiot?”

“Okay, wait a second, Sarge,” he said, getting a touch defensive.

“No. You tell me what you saw.”

He sighed, cowing at the tone. “I already told them I saw a guy in a hoodie.”

“Oh? And why didn't you call it in?”

“Because I wasn't sure there was anything...”

“So, what was it about this guy in a hoodie that made you want to check him out?”

“Just the way he acted.”

“Which was?” he prompted, keeping up the impatient act. Sloane had to admit, Wu was much more confident than she’d seen in months.

“He looked like he was watching the place.”

“So, you got out of your car, and you walked straight up to this guy, and you asked him what he was doing?”

“No, I got out of my car, and I got hit.”

“You didn't look around?”

“I was looking at the guy in the hoodie.”

“So not only did you go after a guy you weren't sure was involved, you let someone come up behind you.”

“Sir, it happened really fast,” he said, trying to explain.

“How'd you end up in the bushes?”

“They dragged me there!”

“"They"?” Wu said, turning back to him from the mirror. “How many was "they"?”

“Just the guy who hit me and the guy in the hoodie,” he said, trying to keep things straight now.

“So, if it was two guys, you must've seen 'em.”

“Sergeant, what the hell's going on here?” he asked, knowing that this wasn’t a normal dressing down.

“I know you're lying, Jessie,” Wu said, watching him steadily.

“I'm not lying.”

“You're Wesenrein, you're involved, and you know Shaw,” Wu said, still dead set and preparing himself.

Acker was surprised a moment before he woged, his nose turning to a porcine snout and his face and ears becoming jowly and floppy. Wu’s eyes widened—Bud had been almost cute compared to this! —and the piggy cop tried to lunge at him. But the movement was all he needed to activate his fight or flight and Wu dodged back and brought his fist up, right into the snout. With a squeal Acker reeled back and tripped over the chair onto the floor.

Nick was moving in that same instance, rushing around to the door. “Bauerschwein!”

“The cop’s a pig…of course,” Sloane said, shaking her head at the irony.

Wu looked down at Jessie and felt his anger rising, knowing he was indeed a traitor to his badge. “You make me sick.”

Nick and Hank got in the room and grabbed him, hauling him up. Acker looked at Nick, squealing again before woging back. “Oh, you're a Grimm again?” he said, surprised but conversational. He looked at Wu who just stared back, glaring. Sloane was hanging back to see if they could get him to talk. Hank was quickly undoing Acker’s utility belt.

“I don't know what you are, but you’re no Aswang,” Wu said. He turned to leave them, grabbing Ackerman’s belt as he did.

“Where's Monroe?” Nick asked.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said.

“Yeah, you do,” Hank snapped, opening a folder to show a copy of the picture from Shaw’s house. “That's you, and that's Shaw.”

“You made calls to Charlie Riken in prison,” Nick said.

“I don't know who that is.”

“You talked to his cellmate Williams, and you visited him eight times.”

“You remember Williams,” Hank said.

“No.”

“You don't know who anybody is,” Hank sneered.

Nick lost his patience and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting and slamming him into the wall. “I'm done asking questions.”

Hank set a hand on his arm. “Nick, not here. Take a walk.”

Nick huffed, not liking being stopped again, but knew he was right. He let go and stormed back out the door.

Acker huffed, smoothing his shirt, and looked at Hank with an unimpressed smirk. “Guess that makes you the good cop, huh?”

“Don't count on it,” he growled back.

Nick came back into the observation room, angry. “Acker knows the game too well…”

“He doesn't know my game,” Sloane said. She lifted the bag a bit. “I brought my tools. I can get information from him, but I need some place we won’t be disturbed. And that can be cleaned easily.”

Nick looked at the bag, then at her. “…Torture?”

“Dierdre preferred to call it “information extraction”. But yeah. It’s not something I like to do. It’s not something I’m proud to do. But if it gets us their location and Monroe, I’ll do it.”

Nick and Renard looked at one another and Renard sighed, nodding. “I know a place…” He moved to go back around, while Hank was still talking.

“You'd do yourself a big favor by cooperating.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Acker said, sneering.

“We've got you tied to the kidnapping. If Monroe dies, don't expect to face a trial,” he warned.

Acker looked back, puffing out his chest. “Some of us are willing to die for what we believe in.”

“There are things worse than death,” Renard said, stepping in with Nick.

“Oh, good, sir, thank God you're here! This is harassment!” Acker said, putting on his widest, most innocent eyes.

Renard was not moved. “Officer, this is your one chance to come clean. I suggest you take it.”

His face fell, confused. “What the hell? Are you gonna let him treat me like this?”

Renard blinked then smiled. “Oh, I see what the problem is. You still think we're playing by the rules.”

He frowned more, defenses rising. “I'm not talking to anybody. You get me a lawyer, or you cut me loose.”

“Neither, I’m afraid,” he said, undoing his tie. “Cuff him.”

Nick didn’t ask for clarification, restraining Acker and cuffing him.

“What the hell—let me go! You can’t do this-”

Renard grabbed his face, making him gasp at how hard his grip was. He then stuffed his folded tie into Acker’s mouth to gag him. Acker’s yells were muffled and barely audible now. “Bring him this way. Sloane, follow us.”

Renard led them out and then to a door at the end of the hall. No one was down this way, but they still moved quickly. Beyond the door was a stair well and Renard led them down the stairs. “There’s an old record’s room down here. Most of the records were moved after a minor flood so there’s a big room down here with just some old furniture. But no one should hear you down here.”

“Sounds perfect,” Sloane said. Acker craned his neck to look at her, confusion and now a little fear creeping on his face. They got to the bottom and Renard used a key on his ring to open the door. It was dark and even when he flipped the light switch, the dim light made it creepier. The room was indeed musty and ill-used. There were a few old chairs and desks, broken or moldy by now. Sloane set the black bag on a desk and grabbed the least broken looking chair to put in the center of the room. “Put him there.”

Hank and Nick wrestled Acker over, forcing him to sit even as he struggled. Hank looked at him as he re did the handcuffs through the back of the chair. “Last chance to tell us peacefully.”

Acker glared up at him and if he could spit, he probably would.

Sloane sighed and looked at the men. “Leave us.”

They frowned. “Sloane, I don’t think—” Renard started. Sloane pulled her badge from her belt and walked over, holding it out.

“This isn’t Sloane the cop doing this. This is Sloane the Grimm.” Acker’s eyes widened and he was confused an on edge immediately. Renard closed his mouth then sighed and took it. “I’ll leave it up to you if I get that back later.”

“Sloane, are you sure you want to be alone with him?” Nick asked.

“Trust me, that’s his problem,” she said.

“I’m serious—”

“I do not want you to see what I’m about to do…please…” she said honestly, looking at them. “There are things I might do that…you might not look at me the same. But I have to do it if it means getting Monroe back.”

Nick took a deep breath. Hank put a hand on his shoulder and nodded to him and the three of them turned to head back out the door. She sighed when they were gone and looked at Acker. Grabbing the end of the tie, she pulled it from his mouth. “If you want to test me, woge.”

He stared at her and woged again. “…You really are a Grimm…b-but Shaw said the female Grimm was younger, with black hair!”

“She wanted him to know she was here. I didn’t. But out of the three of us, you should’ve cooperated with Nick. He’s the nice one,” she sighed, walking over to the bag and opening it.

“Oh, is that supposed to make me want to cooperate?” he asked, laughing. He was trying to sound confident, but she could hear the warble of anxiety in it. “What can you do to me, huh?”

Sloane didn’t turn back to him. But she did start removing items and setting them down where he could see. _A hand drill_ … “You know, history seems to think Grimms just kill things. And that’s true for the most part.” _Pliers, a roll of wire…_ “But see, we’re also curators of information.” _A roll of knives, an electric line, a BBQ lighter…_ “Information is what stands between us and death many a time. So, we became very good at getting the information we need.” _A set of steel skewers, various sizes…_ “But what I’m about to put you through?” _A caddy of bottles, various fillings_ … “This is something only a few learn nowadays. Mostly because it’s pretty stomach turning.” The last thing she grabbed was a pair of rubber gloves from her pocket. She removed her jacket, and she’d changed into a tank top that showed off her muscles and her scars. “And honestly, I never liked this. I prefer clean deaths. And I’ve been working to be a better person, a good detective…But you and your friends decided to ruin that. And now I’m angry.” Acker had been watching her and though it was dramatic, the matter of fact way she spoke put a cold sweat down his back. She wasn’t trying to intimidate him. She was honestly venting and preparing as though she was preparing to cook a dinner or show someone how to fix a sink. Setting the jacket aside, she turned around and pulled the gloves on. She picked up the plug for the electric wire and plugged it in. She tapped the wired ends together, watching it spark. “So…let’s get started.”

\-----------------------

“Should we be worried what she’s doing down there?” Hank asked. They were in Renard’s office to talk privately, all of them a bit agitated.

“At this point, I just want her to get the information,” Nick sighed. He looked at Sloane’s badge on the desk and frowned. He had been thinking the law-abiding method was taking too long as well and considered going outside the law. As much as he wanted to lay into Acker though, torture was not something he’d been trained in.

“I don’t like resorting to these measures, but it may be necessary,” Renard said.

“What about after though? Will she end up in trouble? Will we, if Acker talks? I’m not saying we don’t need to get that info by any means necessary, I’m just worried what’s going to happen afterwards and if I need to get a new identity…”

“Acker is in trouble himself. I’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him,” Renard said.

Nick sighed, agitated and wanting to go do something, but they needed that location first. He looked at his watch. It had been half an hour, not long but how long does torture take? Nick was pacing a little, unable to stay calm. They were sure how much longer they could hold Acker down there without arousing suspicion, considering he was seen earlier. He jumped when his phone went off and pulled it out. The tune was _My Girl._ Sighing, he answered it. “Juliette, is everything okay?”

“Yes! Nick, we found out one of the women at the wedding has a brother who is a cop,” she said quickly.

“A cop?” he asked, surprised.

“Nick, his name is Jessie Acker. Isn't that the cop who was outside our house?” Rosalee said. Nick’s eyes widened and he stood as his energy shot up. “Suzanne told him about our wedding.”

“And she said he knows one of the guys on Trubel's list, Shaw,” Juliette added.

“Okay, okay, where is Acker's sister?” Hank and Renard looked up, paying attention quickly.

“With us. We're at her office in The Pearl.”

“McCoy and Alice Real Estate,” Rosalee clarified.

“Okay, Sergeant Wu is coming to pick her up. We got to talk.”

“Wu?” Juliette asked in surprised. “He’s on this with you?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Okay…We’ll wait for him. We tried calling Sloane and couldn’t get through though.”

“Yeah, she’s…dealing with something related to the case. I’ll make sure she’s ready though, this might be what we need to blow it open. Don't leave her side.”

“Don’t worry, she's not going anywhere,” Rosalee said, sounding determined. Nick nodded and hanged up.

“Acker has a sister?” Hank asked.

“Yeah. I’m having Wu bring her in. We might be able to use her.”

Hank frowned but didn’t object. Renard was nodding. “Good plan.”

“Should we stop Sloane then?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Nick said, heading out the door. He stopped Wu in looking at some of the information and gave him the info to go pick up Suzanne Acker. He then headed to the back stairs.

Acker meanwhile screamed again when the electrodes were applied. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it stung badly and there were small burns where they hit. She pulled them away, looking down at him. “Well?”

“S…screw you,” he spat.

Sloane sighed and unplugged the wires. “Well, I give you credit. So many sustained shocks like that isn’t easy to keep your cool through. But it’s arguably the nicest method I had.”

“You’re not going to intimidate me!”

“I’m not trying to intimidate you. I’m trying to break you,” she said simply, no emotion in her voice. It did give him shivers. She reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller device. “Let’s try something else. I call this the finger trap.”

“Oh, is it a cracker jack prize?”

“Not one you want. See, I put this over one of your fingers.” She walked over and showed him the device. “Then, I turn this knob. Slowly. And as I do, this needle will go under your fingernail. The more I turn, the deeper it will go. It’s long enough it will go to your cuticle easily. I might pop a nail off if I’m not careful.”

He swallowed a little but stared her down. Sloane stared back, dead serious. “If you prefer, I could start with Ling Chi. And please don’t make a Chinese food joke, I’m already hungry,” she said, sounding like she was just complaining instead of threatening him. She picked up one of the knives. “It’s also known as “Death by a thousand cuts.””

“I’m not going to break, you crazy bitch!”

Sloane’s hand was faster than he could catch sight of, and he hissed when he felt a slice on his cheek. “That’s one…”

The tension was broken by a knock at the door and it opened before she could say to go away. She tensed for a moment before sighing as Nick walked in. Sloane felt suddenly like hiding the knife behind her back, even though there was no reason. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what she was doing, but she hadn’t wanted him to see. “Nick, I told you to leave me alone.”

“I know, but I need to talk to you. We have a development,” he said.

She frowned but sighed. She reached up and dug her fingers into the cut, making Acker yell and give her a chance to shove the tie back in his mouth. “Think on which you’d prefer next and I’ll be right back.” She took off the gloves, walking towards Nick and out the door with an impatient look. He motioned fo her to come a bit up the stairs just to be safe.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt... Did he give you anything?”

“…No,” she sighed, shaking her head. “He’s stubborn. I’ve tried electroshock but he took it surprisingly well. If he didn’t have a fetish before…” she sighed. “I’m weighing the next options, but it may be cutting him up. I’m not sure that will work either and it’s going to leave marks. Which means I’d have to kill him afterwards or we think of a way to explain why a police officer turned up like that…” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Nick frowned, feeling his panic over Monroe ease slightly into worry over her. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m angry! At him, at the wesenrein, at me! If I let it out in there, I might kill him, and we’d be screwed! I can’t even concentrate enough to torture him it seems. Dierdre would call me a failure and I’m inclined to agree at this point!”

He frowned more and walked down the step to be right in front of her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sloane, you are absolutely not a failure.”

“I promised Rosalee we’d get Monroe back…And after you all came to rescue me, I can’t do anything!”

“You’re trying,” Nick said. He frowned and turned her face up to him with gentle hands on her face. “Sloane…have you been sleeping okay?”

She’d felt her heart flutter when he touched her, but she frowned. “What?”

“Trubel said you were having nightmares…”

She winced a bit and reached up to take his hands away. “It’s nothing. We should be worrying about Monroe—”

“I can worry about both of you,” Nick said firmly. “What’s going on? Because you’re getting wound up and I don’t want you making a mistake.”

“Excuse me?” she growled.

“Not till you tell me. You said it yourself, you’re angry, but you’ve been holding something in a lot longer than that.”

She glared but he glared back. She finally sighed, hanging her head a bit. “…I keep thinking that you all could’ve died coming after me. And you almost did. You would’ve died and it would been my fault.”

“What?” he asked, surprised. “Sloane, it absolutely wouldn’t have been your fault!”

“Yes, it would! You came to rescue me because Collin managed to capture me…”

“Yeah, being underhanded and crazy. And we’re doing whatever we have to, to get Monroe back right?”

“Yeah, of course…”

“The same way we did to get you back. The way you risked a lot for me during the Zombie incident…or with cure to the aftereffects…The Muse…Getting my powers back…”

She had to smile a little. “Are you saying you’re more trouble than I am?”

“I mean…you have had to rescue me a lot. And we’ve had to rescue Hank before, like from the Gelumcaedus. Even before you came to Portland, we were in danger a lot. It’s one of the rough parts of this life. But we do everything we can to make it out, and to pull our friends out of the fire as we do. That we had to come rescue you is nothing to be ashamed about, Sloane. The way you feel right now is the way I feel, scared for Monroe and angry and helpless. And we felt that way for you too. We understood the risks coming to save you and you don’t have to feel like it would be your fault.”

Sloane stared at him a long while before sighing and bumping her head into his chest. “I…get it…But right now, I want to focus on Monroe and get him back.”

“And we will! We’re going to get him back. We might have to do some things I normally wouldn’t do, but we’re going to save him.”

She looked up. “Things you normally wouldn’t do?”

“Yeah…Juliette and Rosalee called. They found out Acker has a sister—she’s the one that told him about the wedding, she was a guest.”

She straightened. “A sister? Really?”

“Yeah. I’m having Wu bring her in. Acker might not care about what happens to him because of his beliefs, but we’ll see if he cares about her.”

Sloane’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You…want to threaten his sister?”

“Yeah…Just threats though. He thinks we’re the big bad Grimms, so I figure use that. We gotta make him think we’re serious.”

“Underhanded…Is it weird I’m both proud and disappointed it came to this?” she asked, trying to smile.

Nick smiled back a little sadly. “I’m not as much of a boy scout as you thought, huh?”

“Nah…you’re still a good man,” she said honestly.

“…And you’re a good woman.”

“What?”

“Just…whatever we do, it’s to save Monroe and probably a lot of other innocent people. And some not so innocent, if Shaw’s anything to go by. I know torture is a gray area and I don’t condone it…usually. But we’re desperate and at least we know this is a real and present threat. So, I’m not going to hold whatever you do against you. And neither are the others.”

Sloane felt her nerves slowly release and she sighed. “Man…I have a conscience now because of you, you bastard, and you can read me like a book. I hate you.”

He smiled and hugged her shoulders, squeezing her a bit. “Well, I’m putting mine on the backburner so someone should have one...”

“Mmm, then we really do need to get Monroe back quick because these aren’t our roles. Should I keep working him over?”

Nick’s phone buzzed and he looked at it. “Actually, looks like Wu and the others have arrived.”

“How do you want to do this then?” Sloane asked, sobering.

Nick thought a moment before nodding to the door. “Give me about 10 minutes to set it all up. Then bring him up to observation room 2.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

Nick gave her shoulder another squeeze before turning to head back up. Sloane meanwhile leaned against the wall as she counted down in her head.

She finally opened the door ten minutes later. Acker looked up when he opened the door, rolling his eyes. “We brought someone in for questioning. I thought you might want to see them,” Sloane said. She walked over and got him out of the chair, though she kept him cuffed. She marched him upstairs and into the observation room. Nick was already there, and Renard and Hank had made sure the hallway was clear. Acker’s eyes widened when he saw his sister in the interrogation room and Rosalee was grilling her.

“How well does your brother know Shaw?” She asked.

Suzanne shrugged. “I don't know. I think they just go fishing together sometimes…”

“Have you ever heard of the Wesenrein?”

She huffed a laugh. “Yes, but Jessie would never be involved in something like that.” Sloane saw him flinch.

She reached up and pulled the tie from his mouth. “Go on. Call out to her. I’d love for you to explain to her how we came about bringing you in. Though Rosalee’s already doing that.”

“Shaw is involved, and so is your brother,” Rosalee said.

“No. No, he's not. Why are you saying this?”

“Because they have my husband!” Rosalee snapped.

“No. Jessie's not involved. I want to get out of here.” She moved to stand and get her purse.

Rosalee shoved her roughly back down. “You sit down!”

“Why is she here? She's got nothing to do with this!” Acker said, looking at Sloane and Nick with an odd look of betrayal. “Let her go!”

“No. I just wanted you to know, whatever happens to Monroe is going to happen to her,” Nick said, low and dark.

“Furthermore, everything I did to you and was planning to do to you, I will also do to her,” Sloane said. “She’s going to suffer, _a lot_ , because of you.”

Acker woged and lunged for her, but Nick grabbed him quickly and shoved him against the wall. “You tell me where he is, and you don’t have to watch her die!” Renard quickly made his way in, wanting to make sure no one died in the room.

“He talk?”

“No,” Sloane said.

Renard sighed and nodded to them. “Let's get this over with.” Nick let go of Acker and nodded to Sloane, heading for the door. She followed suite, but not before flashing the finger screw and putting it just as quickly back in her pocket.

“You know what Grimms do, right?” Renard asked, watching Acker move to the glass and grabbing his shirt to make sure he didn’t hit it.

Suzanne looked up when Nick opened the door, all smiles. She was confused. “What is going on?”

“We're done here,” Nick said. “We’re gonna take you home.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience, seems there was some confusion,” Sloane added, smiling as well.

“You can't do this,” Acker said, shaking his head as his sister stood and got her purse.

“I'm not doing anything,” Renard said.

“They'll kill her!”

“Yes, they will. Unless you stop it.”

Nick and Sloane meanwhile took Suzanne to a waiting area instead. “Sorry again…that was actually a little deceptive,” Nick said. “Please, take a seat.”

“What? Why?”

“We did this to get to your brother. Let him know he can’t mess with people important to us when he has people important to him,” Sloane said.

“You still think he’s part of this Wesenrein?” she asked, looking disgusted. “Now your what, trying to trap him?”

“He is part of it,” Rosalee said. “I’m sorry, I know it must be hard, but he is. And he’s the only lead we have.”

“Has he been acting strange? Been going off on his own or acting out? Maybe making offhand comments you that just…toe the line of being politically incorrect? Then get angry if you call him out? Or say he’s just joking and make you feel bad?” Hank asked.

She looked unsure, probably thinking of all those things, but shook her head. “He wouldn't do this,” she sobbed, sitting in the chair. “He couldn't. I was just telling him about the wedding and what happened when that girl came in and surprised all of us! Especially when you grabbed her. I can't believe this is happening.”

“Tell me about it,” Rosalee huffed. They all looked up when Renard came out from the room. “What happened?”

“When your brother found out you'd been brought down for questioning, he admitted his involvement,” Renard said, only a little sympathy in his voice.

Suzanne’s face fell and she looked down in disappointment and disbelief. “Oh, my gosh…”

“He's been placed under arrest. An officer will now take you home.”

“Did he say where they are?” Rosalee asked.

“Oxbow Park.”

They were all on their feet in a second, heading out to the armory to load up with Renard running interference so they wouldn’t get caught. Once they were armed and ready, they headed out to the cars to speed to Oxbow Park. Sloane drove Rosalee and Hank while Renard, Nick, Juliette and Wu rode together. They got there just as the sun had set and they only had the light of the moon to navigate. It was enough though.

“They will attack you, even unprovoked,” Renard said, passing out the guns.

“Stay close to me, Rosalee,” Hank said, pumping his shotgun.

Nick looked at Sloane as she picked up a gun. “…You okay with that?”

“I think so…but I’d use my bare hands at this point.”

He nodded and they started through the woods. Acker had given them an approximate location, but it was easy to track them from the fire light of several torches and a burning wolfsangel they set up, and the yelling.

“This is crazy!” a familiar voice yelled, and they glanced at one another.

“Was that…Bud?” Hank asked.

“Wasn’t he with you two?” Sloane asked, looking at Rosalee and Juliette.

“He said he was going to go talk with one of the guests!” Juliette hissed back, looking worried.

“Remove his chains,” a cold, sardonic voice said. They got to the edge and were able to see at least two dozen people gathered, wearing black and silver robes with hoods and the wolfsangel embroidered on them. And those skull masks under the hood as well, though some were unmasked now for some reason. Two of them were pulling Monroe over to the stakes near the pyre they were building but he was fighting them. Bud was being held by another robed man; a knife pressed against his throat. Monroe froze when the Riken—in a robe—pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. Rain began to fall, steady but not hard enough to put out fire. “Any efforts to avoid your fate, I put a bullet in you, and it won't kill you. You'll still taste the fire.”

Monroe glared defiantly but didn’t move. Rosalee almost ran out there but she grabbed her quickly, shaking her head. She then got the others attention and made a motion with her hand going in a circle. _Surround them._ They nodded and started moving off through the brush to get on the other side.

“The sentence is justified. Blood will remain pure. Put him on the stake,” Riken said.

“No! Don't do this!” Bud yelled. “Don't do this! Please listen to me! Listen to me. You're gonna regret this!”

“Cut his throat,” Riken sighed, impatient.

“Oh, oh, my God!” Bud squeezed, bracing himself as the knife came up to his throat.

Wu managed to get behind the man before he could though, holding his shotgun up to his head. “Don't move.”

The wesen turned in shock, then further shock as the rest of them came out pointing guns at them.

“Riken!” Nick yelled. The man turned to him, eyes wide in shock and confusion.

“Monroe!” Rosalee cried, rushing for him. No one dared try and touch her with Sloane’s eyes trained on them.

“Rosalee,” Monroe sighed, shocked and relieved as she hugged him and kissed him desperately. She pulled back to start untying him, fretting over every little cut and bruise. The last three days must’ve been rough for him.

“The Tribunal is over,” Nick said.

“Nick, Sloane, thank God you...Oh, I don't know them either,” Bud said, shaking his head.

“So, you're Burkhardt?” Riken said, the shock fading into contempt. He woged into a blutbad, ready to attack. But he had to pause when he saw his eyes. “You got it back…”

“That is the rumor,” Nick agreed.

“And he’s not the only one you need to worry about,” Sloane said, turning her attention to Riken when Hank was able to make sure no one went for Monroe and Rosalee.

He stared at her in surprise as well before snarling. “You may be a Grimm again, and have a Grimm _bitch_ with you, but you're not gonna be able to arrest all of us.”

Sloane wasn’t fazed by the slur, but Nick’s jaw ticked slightly. “You're right. Some of you will be stupid.”

“Well, stupider,” Sloane amended.

“Take them!” Riken yelled.

The scene devolved into chaos then, with the wesen woging and trying to rush them and gunshots firing. Several robed figures went down as the shots rang out from all of them, and others fled into the undergrowth.

“Anyone who doesn’t want to die tonight better get on the ground and keep your hands where we can see them!” Sloane shouted. Several complied quickly and Renard nodded in approval. Others ran for the woods, including Riken. She wasn’t too worried about finding him in that red robe, however. Wu, Renard and Hank all gave chase, but Sloane was working quickly to try and handcuff those that had been smart enough to stay up before rushing out with Nick. Grimms had a better chance of keeping them in line till they were secure. She was glad they’d brought a whole back of cuff and that there were some thick sticks she could use as stakes to keep them where she wanted.

Wu had also followed one man into the woods, one of the larger of them with long dark hair and a beard.

“Stop or die!” He shouted, taking aim. The man stopped, hands going up immediately. Wu saw the pistol in one hand even in the dim moonlight through the trees. “Drop it.”

“Please, please don't shoot me,” he said, turning around. He tossed the gun, so it landed close to Wu. “Look, I give up.”

Wu eyed him, keeping the gun trained on him as he knelt to retrieve the weapon. He took his eyes off him for just a second, but it was long enough for him to woge into something with a lot of teeth and claws and rush for him. Wu gasped and in a split second was able to stabilize and fire his gun. The blast hit the man square in the chest and sent him flying. Wu breathed deep and rose, walking over to look at him. His features slowly morphed back to a human now that he no longer lived. He took a deep breath and then let it out, shaking his head. “Should’ve just given up…”

Hank was not nearly so phased when a man in a black robe turned into a Hasslich. Seeing that he wasn’t going to be intimidated, the Hasslich tried to run, but Renard was the one to catch him. Woging himself, the man was lifted off his feet with one hand and Hank had to admire his boss had a way with his hands…

Now, up to this point, Juliette had not been having a great few days either. Over six weeks had passed since that night she’d slept with Nick in Adalind’s form. And as headaches and nausea and other cramps got worse, she’d worried she’d gotten pregnant. Luckily all tests were negative. And she took several. So it wasn’t that and that had been a huge relief because there was a lot she needed to work out before even thinking about children.

Then the night Monroe had been taken, it happened. While fighting a headache, she’d felt her face twitching, moving, almost _melting_. Looking into the mirror in the bathroom she’d seen her form twist and distort. Her skin becoming leathery, her eyes becoming like two holes in her head and her jaw cracking as if broken. It was a picture she knew well: a hexenbiest. She’d screamed, and that scream broke the mirror in the bathroom, one on her vanity in the bedroom, and several picture frames. In a way she’d been thankful Nick hadn’t come home right away so she could clean up. She’d been able to hide the mirrors and get replacements delivered the next day before he noticed. But then her time was filled with worrying about Monroe, worrying about Rosalee, and worrying about herself. Rosalee had confirmed it was possible to _become_ a hexenbiest, not just be born as one, and that sometimes they were even more powerful. None of that made her feel good at the time.

What did make her feel good, in a sick way, was when she was tackled by a blutbad boy. He was young, but he was eager to kill. She could see it in his eyes as he woged and pinned her down, ready to get his teeth wet with blood. Her gun had toppled out of her hands as she tried to shoot, and he grinned down at her and taunted how she missed. It was a split-second decision—she focused on her desire to stop him, her desire to be more powerful than him. And she felt her face shift and change. He was confused a moment, then it turned to pain as she looked up at him and thought _I wish I’d blown your brains out._ And so, she did. But without a bullet. His head split open in the back and with a gasp he de-woged and collapsed. She pushed him off her and she stood quickly, confused and terrified, and exhilarated all at once. No one had seen her. Her secret was still safe, she thought, and there was a rush knowing she did that on her own. And then more sickening guilt.

While the others were dealing with the runners, Nick and Sloane were dealing with the large group left in the clearing and helping Bud.

“You okay?” Nick asked, going to untie him.

“Oh, Nick. I've never been so happy to see anybody since the last time you saved...” Bud started.

“Quiet,” he ordered, pausing. Sloane was just finishing tying all the cuffs together into a chain-gain and staking it to the ground when she heard the rustling too. Two men in black robes rushed out, one going for Nick and the other to stop Sloane.

Nick jumped out the way as the one coming for him, dodging a clawed swipe. The masks made it hard to tell what they were exactly, but the claws were pretty universal. Nick dodged another strike, then blocked one with his arm and punched him across the face with his other. Another uppercut and then a round house kick sent the man sprawling. He looked up to see if Sloane needed help.

Sloane had rolled out of the way when the man came for her and backed away. She brought the gun up, but the man rushed her again so she side stepped him and brought her elbow around into his temple. He staggered, shaking his head and then roared at her and bull-rushed her. She lost the gun but planted her feet and managed to keep from being thrown, bringing her hands fist in fist down onto his back to break his stride. Backing up, she noted she was near the large steaks they’d been planning to put Monroe on. A flash of anger went through her and she reached out and grabbed one. With her own roar, she used her strength to pull it from deep in the ground where she buried it. No one had expected that, including her opponent who froze. Just long enough that leapt forward and forced him down with a drop kick before bringing the steak up as thick as both her arms together overhand and down. He screamed as it came down just inches from his pointed ears. “If you don’t let me cuff you with your friends, I will put this through your face.”

“I-I give!” he yelped.

She nodded, taking out another pair of cuffs. Nick was smiling in admiration and relief, then kneeled to take the mask off his own unconscious opponent.

“Oh, my God,” Bud breathed. “It's my chiropractor!”

Nick was mildly sympathetic but helped Sloane get the two of them over to the rest of the group, then finish untying him. As he did the others trickled back into the clearing. He saw Juliette, looking a bit shell shocked. He rushed over. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Sort of…” She sighed. “I…killed one of them. He attacked me.”

Nick felt a jolt of fear and hugged her close. “I…I’m just thankful you’re safe,” he said honestly.

She nodded then looked around. “Where are Monroe and Rosalee?”

“I don't know,” Wu shook his head, going over to help guard their prisoners.

“I haven't seen them,” Hank agreed, shaking his head.

“The last I saw, he was chasing after Riken,” Renard said.

“Shit!” Sloane hissed, rushing up into the woods before they could stop her.

Monroe had picked up Riken’s scent as they were going and the burning anger he felt came up. He took off, Rosalee close behind. Riken was fleeing but trying to get his gun ready for a fight. He paused when he also caught a scent on the air, woging and growling. The gun went flying when Monroe tackled him just before he turned towards him and so began a duel between Blutbader. Monroe proved that despite his vegan lifestyle, he still had a lot of power behind him as he punched and blocked a good number of Riken’s blows. Riken tried to grab his shirt and bite his neck, but he forced him away and sent him sprawling with a right hook to the jaw. He backed away and Monroe snarled, “You should have killed me when you had the chance!”

He growled and pulled a slender knife from his boot. He made several swipes at him, grazing Monroe and forcing him to back away. A kick to the sternum had Monroe on his back and he growled low in satisfaction. ““I'm gonna kill you now.”

“Like hell you are!” Rosalee yelled. She woged and without hesitation rushed and leapt on his back, sinking her teeth into his neck. He screamed as he fell from the sudden blow and pain and Monroe rolled and then joined her, fangs deep in his neck. He screamed again, trying to fight and beg but they tore at his throat until he stopped moving. Getting up they both panted and sighed. Monroe stood, a bit shaky and sore, and Rosalee went to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…Yeah, I will be…” They both tensed and turned when they heard rustling, only to see Sloane staring at them in shock. “Sloane…hey…”

“Hey…um…Riken is dead?”

“Yeah,” Rosalee nodded. She nodded slowly, looking at the blood around their mouths. Rosalee blushed and wiped at it with her hand. “I, um…”

“…You both did what you had to do,” she sighed, sounding non-judgmental. “Just…never saw you do that before.” Rosalee knew though the sight must’ve disturbed her for at least a second. She walked over, looking at the body. “I also wish you left him alive for this.” She then raised the stake in her hands and brought it down. Monroe and Rosalee looked away, not sure they wanted to see that. “I’d set him on fire, but that might be a hazard out here…”

Monroe gave a giddy laugh and nodded. “Well…it’s overkill anyway at this point.”

“He deserved worse,” Sloane said. She walked over and took Monroe’s other arm over her shoulders to help Rosalee. “C’mon, everyone is worried.”

They nodded, heading back through the woods.

The others had remained in the clearing to try and strategize, but all looked up in relief when they crested the hill.

“There you are!” Nick sighed.

“Did anybody get away? Because Riken sure didn't,” Rosalee said.

Renard shook his head, looking over their group of prisoners. “No. I counted when we arrived and anyone who isn’t here is dead. We got them all.”

“Thanks to all of you,” Monroe said.

“Uh, what do we have in store for these idiots?” Wu asked, quirking a brow at the surviving members. The rain had soaked them through, and the rest of them, and was finally picking up enough that the wolfsangel slowly fizzled out.

\--------------

Nine of the couple dozen members survived the night. They were taken into custody and Renard prepared a speech by the morning light that stated they were a murder-suicide cult and their leader was Jamie Acker. They’d decided on this route to try to forget Riken—he’d be cut from the story as much as possible. It was a shame that it was a police officer in charge, Renard stated, but they were dedicated to ensuring hate did not win. It was all very rousing.

Monroe was checked out at the hospital and though he had a few deep bruises and several cuts and scrapes he’s overall fine physically. Mentally he might need a little time. He told them all about what happened while he was held captive. The main sticking point was to find the wife of a man named Terry they had taken before him who had not been so lucky. Monroe had almost escaped but was captured when he found Terry’s body on a stake, burned beyond recognition. He only had a wedding ring that Terry asked to be returned to his wife. They promised to work and track her down to find out what happened, taking the wedding ring as evidence.

That afternoon they coordinated to meet up at Monroe and Rosalee’s to celebrate not being dead. But the three detectives also grouped up to discuss next steps.

“We're not taking any chances this time,” Nick said.

“How many units you think we'll need?” Hank asked.

“At least two. One in the back, one in the front.”

“I wouldn’t mind one in the other lane if possible,” Sloane said.

“And we'll be inside?” Hank said.

“And we're going all the way with this one.”

“And don't let 'em out of our sight until...”

“Hey, come on, you guys, you're part of this toast too,” Monroe said, finding them where they were talking by the front door. He was trying to open a champagne bottle and grimaced when it popped the cork at his wall. “Oof. That's gonna leave a mark…”

They all laughed and walked over to join the rest of the group. Rosalee was sticking close to Monroe and had her arm around him as if to anchor him there even as he went around filling glasses. “Monroe and I just wanted to thank all of you for what you did. We wouldn't be here without you.”

“I certainly wouldn't,” Monroe sighed.

Bud nodded enthusiastically. He had a puffy cheek from a blow but was otherwise alright. “Well, let me just say that I wouldn't be here either, so there's a lot of thanks from me too.”

“Yeah, you should've seen Bud out there. He was awesome. You really stood up to those sons-of...”

“Monroe,” Rosalee said gently, trying to keep him calm.

“Right. I know, I know. Look, I just wanted to say from the bottom of my heart how much I appreciate, you know, the...” he started. His words started to get a little choked up though.

“Aww, honey, it's okay,” she said. She looked at them all, smiling with misty eyes. “We just...We're overwhelmed you all were willing to risk your own lives for ours, and we couldn't ask for better friends. And we can't possibly thank you enough. Truly.”

Monroe nodded, a tear slipping out as he tried to get under control. “What she said.”

“Hey, you did the same for me,” Sloane said, smiling at them warmly.

“And we would again. Just…give us some time to rest before anyone else gets kidnapped.”

“Don’t Jinx us,” Nick said wryly.

“You both deserve a long rest and every happiness,” Juliette said.

“Well, I suggest we drink to your honeymoon,” Renard added.

“At last!” Wu agreed, lifting his glass which all of them clinked together.

“We'll miss you guys,” Rosalee said.

“Yes, we will, but I think I'm also ready for some alone time with my wife,” Monroe said, smiling at her lovingly.

“Well, we’ve made sure you’ll start your honeymoon in style,” Sloane said, smiling.

And it was just after sunset when a limo pulled up, flanked by two cop cars. Monroe and Rosalee were shocked but smiled as Nick and Hank loaded their luggage and Sloane helped them get settled. They started for the airport with a car in front and back, both with lights and siren going to warn everyone to back off.

“You guys really didn't have to do this,” Rosalee said, checking her carry-on and Monroe’s to make sure they had their passports and tickets.

“There's no way you two are gonna try to make it to the airport without us,” Hank said.

“Not a chance,” Nick agreed.

“Plus, the siren lets us cut through traffic,” Sloane pointed out.

Monroe chuckled. “That is really great, you guys. Thank you. As long as you're not coming on the actual honeymoon with us, we're good.” Rosalee laughed with him but they looked at their friends when they didn’t laugh, instead giving straight faces.

“You won't even know we're there,” Nick said.

“We'll blend right in,” Hank said.

“Total privacy. Just with three hot bodyguards,” Sloane said. Hank fist bumped her.

Needless to say, they declined.

Sloane sighed as they rode back in the limo, which was rather nice. “I’m tired as hell…”

“Same,” Hank agreed, stretching out a bit in the limo. “I wonder if we’ll get a break at all from wesen cases while they’re gone…”

“Probably not,” Nick said drolly. “I think we were lucky for a while and now it’s all going to flood in again.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Hank chuckled.

Nick chuckled back and then jumped when he felt Sloane lean against him. Looking over, he was surprised to see her with her eyes closed, asleep.

“Whoa, she’s more tired than I thought…” Hank said, frowning worriedly. “I thought she was running on fumes but didn’t think she’d fall asleep on you.”

“Yeah…She hasn’t been sleeping well,” Nick said. He smiled a little at how vulnerable she looked.

“Doesn’t seem to be having trouble now…” he observed.

“She trusts us…That’s a good thing.”

Hank hummed, smiling as well as they sat back to relax. When Sloane snorted and shifted in her sleep they looked at one another and had to cover their mouths to avoid bursting out laughing. They’d have to figure out how to wake her up gently when they got to her house but for now, they’d let her rest up.

\--------------

**Till Death Do Us Part**

\-----------------

After a several of days of rest another case did indeed drop into their laps while Monroe and Rosalee were still on their honeymoon. Well, more like got thrown at them like a wet dish towel. Renard seemed very distracted that morning, antsy about something. But he was intent they take the case.

They pulled up to an old, white Neoclassical style house with a wraparound porch that had seen better days. Sloane froze slightly as she got out of the car and looked up at it though.

“Sloane?” Nick asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…reminds me of where I grew up a little,” she said, eyeing the house with trepidation.

Nick looked at the house and then back at her. “Your grandmother’s house?”

“Yeah…it’s not quite the same but…a similar feel.” _Right down to needing some work done…_ Though her grandmother’s house didn’t need the windows boarded up, it was just a large and white with a wraparound porch. Nostalgia and bad memories warred with one another like they did when she visited Wildred.

“No, yeah, I see it,” he agreed, remembering the house from his visit a year ago. “You going to be okay?”

She took a deep breath and then nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

“Remember the old Donovan house? Well, you wouldn’t Sloane, but what about you two?” Wu asked, walking up.

“Yeah, supposed to be haunted,” Hank said, zipping his jacket against the January chill. “Double homicide, if I remember right.”

“You do, and in the land of the weird, we've gone over the edge,” Wu said dryly. “The G Team is on the case.”

“G Team?” they all said in unison.

“Yeah. Like the A-Team, but freakier. I’m working on the logo, just wait.” They all snorted a bit and smiled, easing the tension as they followed him inside. The wallpaper was very classic with red stripes and flowers, eaten away by time, dirt and mold. The staircase to the upstairs had an elegant twist to it that stopped a several steps from the front door. But at the bottom was a body or what was left it. The remains were burned beyond recognition—to the point his eyes and nose were all but gone and his skin was coming off in black flakes. Freshly burned bodies often had a bit of moisture to them but he was almost dry, as though all the fluids had been burned too. “Victim is Raymond Miller, a ghost hunter.”

The detectives were all disgusted, but Nick stepped closer. “So... this is what you meant by "over the edge” …This is the ghost hunter?”

“Oh, yeah. "Ghost Seekers." They have business cards,” Wu said, pulling a card he must’ve been given from his inner jacket pocket and holding it out to them. Nick took it to look at dubiously with his gloved hand, showing it to the others. It was black and white, showing three white silhouettes of people chasing a ghost at the top through a black bar, their name and info written in black on white in a modern gothic font. The O in ghost was a circle with a cross through it—a symbol Sloane had seen before in old mystical diagrams, but she didn’t remember what it was off the top of her head. “Based in Seattle.”

“God. Looks like he was struck by lightning,” Nick said, handing the card back and going to look at him with a flashlight.

“More than once,” Hank agreed. “What could've done this?”

“Besides lightning? Beats me,” Wu sighed.

Sloane flipped a switch, noting that none of the lights on. “No power to the house?”

“Not for five years,” Wu said. “That’s when we had a double murder in the house. Patty and Stetson Donovan were killed upstairs…supposedly by a massive jolt of electricity, if the rumors are believed. No sign of how or who.”

“Well, I don’t think it’d have enough power for this anyway. Not without tripping like…all the breakers,” she said, frowning.

“Who called it in?” Hank asked.

“The other two Ghost Seekers,” Wu said. “Both swear he was killed by the ghost they were after. They said his body came flying down the stairs.”

“Well, let's see what's upstairs,” Nick said. They followed him up and the house was in a similar state of disrepair. Upstairs they found the master bedroom close to the landing and saw two singed foot marks in the rug. A camera with a curved lighting apparatus was on the ground, also badly burnt. “The camera…”

“It used to be a camera,” Hank said

“You don't suppose he could've recorded his own death?” They looked at Wu, who was nodding and pulling out his gloves.

“Maybe, if I can salvage the memory card.”

“This looks older,” Sloane said, looking at the bare mattress in front of the camera. It had a huge burn mark on it, about the size of two people.

“That’s where the Donovons were found. They looked over the mattress and took samples but nothing on it explained how they died,” Wu said, kneeling by the camera while he fitted the gloves and pulled out a large evidence bag. She looked at him curiously and he shrugged. “I knew some of the stories and I looked up the information on the way. Still unsolved and they don’t know how the killer managed it. Kind of like now.”

Nick sighed and nodded. He didn’t see anything else besides cobwebs and dust and looked at Hank and Sloane. “Let's talk to the other two.”

They came down and outside, where a young black man and white woman were sitting. They had blankets draped over their shoulders and had obviously been crying and shaken. They looked up as they walked over, and they tried to smile reassuringly. “Hi. We’re detectives Burkhardt, Larson and Griffin,” Nick said, gesturing at them all. “We’re working your friend’s case…What’s your names?”

The girl sniffled. “Um, I’m Carol Webber.”

“Paul Danielson,” the man said.

“Okay. Now I know this is a rough time, but we need to ask some questions. I understand you three came here for a show about ghost hunting?”

They nodded. “We've been doing the Ghost Seekers web series about a year now. We came across the Donovans' house a few months ago and came down to see it.”

“We felt like we'd really found something. Raymond was so excited,” Carol said.

“This whole thing, our ghost hunting, it was his passion,” Paul said, choking up a bit.

“But to see what it did to Raymond, the way that he, you know... it was just like the legend.”

“You mean the double homicide,” Hank said, half questioning half correcting.

“Yeah, the Donovans. They died in bed together. They were electrified to death. Just like Raymond!” Paul said.

“They say the dead husband's ghost still haunts this place, killing people the same way he and his soul mate were killed five years ago,” Paul added.

“I know we say we're ghost hunters, but you don't think you'll actually run into this stuff…God, the way he screamed,” she sobbed.

Paul put an arm around her comfortingly but looked up at them. “I'm telling you, Raymond was killed by a ghost, and we're gonna find it. We're not letting our friend die in vain!”

“He won’t have, but you’re not going back in there,” Sloane said firmly.

“But-”

We're sorry for your loss, but this is an open investigation,” Hank said.

“Let us figure out what killed Raymond,” Nick said. “We’ll let you know if we need more information.”

They didn’t look happy—how could they? —but nodded.

\-------------

“Unis have been called to the Donovan house a hell of a lot of times,” Hank said, reading over reports.

“Neighbors reported strange lights, sounds coming from inside the house at night. But every time cops arrived, the place was empty.”

“No wonder they stopped responding,” he sighed. “With no living heirs, the bank seized control of the house five years ago. It's still up for sale.”

“Still?” Sloane asked, surprised. “I’d think those home renovation nuts would’ve snapped it up long ago. Seems like a handyman, flip or flopper gold mine.”

“Well, an unsolved double murder does tend to scare people away,” Nick said. “And the ghost.”

“Please, there’s no such thing,” Sloane snorted.

“I’m not so sure…I told you about La Llorona.”

“That was probably a crazy wesen of some kind. There are several that can control people, children included. This is also probably a wesen.”

“You know what kind?” he challenged.

“I know there’s an electric kind. I saw it in your trailer when we were organizing the books. I…just don’t remember the name,” she admitted. “But I made a reference for it.”

“We’ll look it up later but maybe you shouldn’t argue so loudly? In the station?” Hank said.

“We’re not arguing,” Nick said. “But I just find it strange you don’t believe in ghosts considering what we have to fight day in and day out.”

“I’ve seen wesen the majority of my life, but I’ve never seen a ghost,” she said simply. “Besides, I’ve never heard of ghosts electrocuting people either.”

“On that note, I got to the old case file,” Hank said. He pulled out a photo and held it up. “Patty and Stetson Donovan. Young, attractive, successful.”

Nick took the photo, looking at it with a sympathetic glance. “They looked happy.” He showed Sloane, and she nodded a bit at the couple toasting with wine glasses and smiling at the camera over a candlelit dinner. She was smiling brightly, with long wavy brown hair. He looked a bit more uncomfortable but happy—like he didn’t like his picture taken.

“Not so much here,” Hank said, grimacing as he turned another photo over. This one showed two dead bodies, charred, lying side by side facing each other and reaching towards one another. Nick and Sloane grimaced as well.

“That looks a whole lot like what happened to Raymond,” Nick said.

“Shattered skull, no teeth, eyes blown out... same MO,” Hank said, looking over the autopsy report. “Same killer?”

“Unless there's more than one,” Nick said, taking some of the other documents to look over.

“Who worked the case?”

Nick searched the documents for a name. “Detective Mark Wilson had the lead on it,” he read.

“Is he still in Portland?”

“I think so?”

“Let's see if we invite him down here for coffee,” Hank said, picking up the phone to dial the directory.

Mark Wilson was still in Portland, though he’d retired two years ago. Part age, part the hard life of a police detective. He was galled someone else had been killed the way the Donovans were, but he was happy to come down and look things over and tell them what he knew. Despite his silver hair and slow gait, he still had the sharp eyes of an investigator. He spent a little time looking the case over, refamiliarizing himself his notes.

“How did you ID the bodies?” Hank asked, frowning at the picture again. “The report says they were unrecognizable.”

“The picture says that too,” Sloane said, frowning at the charred remains again.

Wilson sighed. “The techs had very little to work with. Couldn't even get dental records because of the way the skulls and teeth were shattered. But the victims were in their home, and their wedding rings were melted to their fingers.” He shook his head sadly. “The way those bodies were scorched, forensics said it had to have been caused by over 200,000 amperes of electricity.”

“That's quite a jolt,” Hank said.

“A car battery is 6000 at the most,” Sloane said, a bit awed.

“Yeah, but that's not the weirdest part. The rest of the room was untouched. Only their bodies and the mattress they were found on were damaged. Like the killer had one hell of a monster Taser!” he said, obviously still weirded out. “Look, I worked a long time, I never heard of that kind of weapon.”

“Any chance it was a robbery gone bad?” Nick asked.

“Eh, nothing was taken. There was still cash in Stetson's wallet, found on the floor in his pants pocket. No signs of forced entry.”

“So, you went with a love triangle gone south?” Hank asked, looking at the file.

He sighed and nodded. “During the investigation, we learned Patty Donovan was having an affair with her husband's coworker Theo Hinkley. Theo probably thought Patty was going to leave Stetson for him, but Patty decided not to. So, Theo figured if he couldn't have her, no one could. Shakespearean, ain't it?” he said, laughing humorlessly.

“A tragedy, yeah…” Sloane said, frowning at the picture again. Now she wondered if Stetson had trouble smiling for another reason. She guessed maybe they weren’t in love as they first thought. But then, what if you did fall in love with someone else? What if you fell for someone who was already taken? She’d never really thought about these things before, but she nearly glanced at Nick. _No way. Even if I am legitimately in love, he wouldn’t feel the same. He loves Juliette. And even if by some chance he did want me, it…it wouldn’t be what I want, to make him choose or hurt Juliette. And he wouldn’t be the kind of man I think he is if he did._

“You speak with any of the suspect's friends or family?” Hank asked. Sloane quickly focused back into the conversation.

“Spoke to Theo's wife a few times. Lily, I think was her name. But she was just angry. Couldn't blame her.”

“You know where Theo's wife is now?” Nick asked, looking at the

“No clue. Her last known is in the file.” He sighed and rose, looking at them seriously. “You guys ever figure out how this happened, be sure and let me know.”

They nodded, watching him go.

“I don’t think we’ll figure it out today,” Nick sighed.

“Yeah, ‘bout that time. Better to start fresh tomorrow,” Hank agreed.

They agreed and stood to head out.

Once she got home, Sloane sat to do a little research on her laptop. Mainly looking up any kind of weapon that used electricity. She was still sure there was a wesen behind this, but they might need a more mundane explanation. She put pre-made lasagna in the oven to cook while she did.

As she was surfing her computer beeped with a video chat request from Rosalee. Smiling, she accepted the invite and smiled more when Monroe and Rosalee came up. They were dressed for their tropical holiday in light linens and shorts, calling from what looked like a cabana on the water. “Hey!”

“Greetings, from paradise!” Monroe said grandly.

“Having a good time, I take it?” Sloane said.

“It’s _amazing_ ,” Rosalee sighed. “It’s so warm, and beautiful—the water is pure blue! And there’s so many beautiful flowers and green trees…”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in I’m stuck with winter here,” Sloane said.

“It’s hard not to,” Monroe chuckled. “I mean, I get up to watch the sunrise, do yoga—they have fantastic yoga classes here—and then it’s just doing whatever strikes our fancy.” He kissed Rosalee’s cheek, smiling broadly. “Whatever it is.”

Sloane felt a little pang but smiled. “Hey, keep it PG for me, please.”

Rosalee blushed but giggled, smacking Monroe softly. “But we just wanted to let you know we’re doing alright and see how you all are doing.”

“Uh, great,” Sloane nodded. “I mean, for being stuck here in the cold and at work, we’re doing good. Busy.”

“What, why are you busy?” Monroe said, more alert. “Did something happen?”

“No. I mean, yes, but it’s just a new case, that’s all.”

“A wesen case?” Rosalee asked, concerned.

“We don’t know, but _we_ are working on it. So, you both need to relax and remember where you are. No work on the honeymoon.”

“Right, you’re right,” Monroe said, holding up his hands. “Just…instinct by now.”

“And I appreciate that your instinct is to help, but again: _relax_.” She said, smiling.

“Speaking of which, how are you sleeping?” Rosalee asked.

“Ah…better, yeah. The tea is helping.” _So, did talking with Nick. Weirdly falling asleep next to him worked well…aaaah, do not think like that!_

“I’m glad,” she sighed, sounding relieved. She looked at the clock on her phone and gasped. “Oh, we need to head out though, we have a reservation we need to get ready for. We just wanted to check in really quick.”

“We’ll probably call Nick in the morning,” Monroe said.

“I’ll let him know to expect your call. But again, you better be relaxing the hell out there.”

They laughed. “Yes Ma’am,” Monroe saluted.

“Love you, sweety,” Rosalee said.

She smiled a lot more honestly. They’d rarely said anything like that out loud but given everything they’d been through it was the depth of those feelings in words. “Love you too.” They smiled and waved before cutting the call off. Sighing again, she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. Why now, of all times, did she want what sappy, lovey-dovey couples had? She’d relaxed her guard too much and now her mind and her heart were thinking about these sorts of things. How nice it would be to have someone who wanted to be embarrassingly sweet with you. How lonely it was to realize how long since she’d felt that kind of passion for…anyone. Even when she had it didn’t feel like what Monroe and Rosalee seemed to feel…

Her oven beeped and she got up to get her food. Serving for one. God, why was she depressed now?! She was stronger than this. She didn’t need a romantic relationship. She had so much she never thought she’d have: Good friends, a career she enjoyed and was good at, a future…She’d spent years telling herself to be satisfied with what she had. That Grimms don’t get happy endings. She was happy now and she had to cherish it while she could because the other shoe would drop eventually. Close calls wouldn’t last forever. One day, something was going to land a hit and she might lose it all…maybe it was best not to wish for more.

\----------------------

The next day they were working again at tracking down leads. Hank was trying to find Theo Hinkley’s wife, calling around to her friends and then to her last known address.

“How long?...Yeah, okay. Got it. Thanks.” He hanged up, looking at them. “Lily Hinkley moved three years ago, left no forwarding. But the landlord knows where she works: The Overlook Restaurant.”

“I guess we need to find her work schedule, then,” Nick asked.

Wu walked up then, smiling proudly with his laptop in his arms. “You know how sometimes you guys forget what an invaluable member of the force I am?”

“Who is this guy?” Nick asked

“I have no idea,” Hank replied. Sloane rolled her eyes.

Wu just smiled. “So maybe then you don't want to know what I was able to salvage from the victim's somewhat-melted camera.”

“You got something?” Hank asked in surprise.

“I believe I do.” He held up a flash drive then set his laptop on their desks and plugging it in. Pulling up the video player.

The video was a bit pixelated and corrupted, but they could still make out what was happening. Raymond, who was operating the camera, was standing in the master bedroom and talking in a hushed stage whisper. “I'm in the room where it all went down. The Donovans were found right here. The scorch marks are still there.”

“That mattress really should be tossed out,” Sloane muttered. Nick and Hank shushed her, and she rolled her eyes again. The camera panned up as the lights above began fluctuating and she frowned, knowing the power should be non-existent in that house.

“Oh, I definitely feel a presence…” Raymond said, panning the camera around. He showed some kind of meter and how it went to the red. Then there was the sound of a footstep. “What the hell is that?” he gasped. Something flashed and rushed the camera then, the last thing they heard being a scream.

“The camera melted down here,” Wu said. He began scanning back frame by frame till he paused the frame on what looked like a glowing lizard-man with his mouth open wide. Sharp teeth were bared.

“Whoa,” Nick said, eyebrows rising.

“Wesen, right? I mean, we're not looking at a ghost,” Wu said.

“Definitely not,” Sloane said. She looked Nick a bit smugly and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“Do you know what it is?”

“I saw it in one of your books actually.”

“Do you remember what it was now?”

“…Yes. …Sort of. Ah, he was a... Meta... Muto... Mata…” she sounded out.

“Keep going, maybe you’ll summon it,” Hank said with a smirk.

“Matanca Zumbido,” she finally said, snapping her fingers.

“Bless you,” Wu said.

“Ha Ha. But seriously, I’m pretty sure that’s what it was. I made a card for it under the M’s. I remember because Monroe was there, and I showed him, and he said “Hakuna Matanca” for some reason…”

“Well I think it definitely means worries for the rest of my days.” She gave Wu a blank look and Wu stared back. “Lion King?”

“…It’s not a lion?” she said, confused now.

“Okay, got a movie for next movie night,” Nick said, nodding to Hank who made a note on his phone.

“Wait, you haven’t seen the Lion King?” Wu asked in disbelief.

Sloane blushed, and was about to get defensive, but Nick set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not her fault. She was training to be a Grimm since she was a kid.”

“Oh…right,” he nodded. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Or a lot of tears. Um, are you sure it’s that whatever you said?”

She sighed and looked again. “Pretty sure, but it is blurry…Could you get a screen grab printed for us?”

“Yes, I can,” he said, hitting the control keys to print and go get it.

Nick looked at them. “You think this is our killer?”

“Given that the shot was taken just before Raymond was murdered, yes. But the question is, is this Theo Hinkley, the Hakuna Matanca?”

“That is not what it’s called,” Sloane said impatiently.

“But it’s so much more fun to say,” Hank grinned.

“Theo was married to Lily,” Nick went on, trying to keep them on track though he wanted to laugh at Sloane’s indignant expression. “If this is Theo, she knows what he is.”

“So, when we talk to her, we should be polite,” Hank agreed.

“How's that?” Wu asked, bringing a printout of the blurry monster face to them.

“It’ll do,” Sloane said, looking it over again.

“Why don't you come with us on this one?” Nick said, smiling at Wu.

He looked at them all and the three detectives were all nodding. He smiled a bit. “I'm in.”

\--------------

“It was assumed that your husband, Theo, killed Patty and Stetson Donovan,” Nick said. They’d gone to the Overlook restaurant and were in luck that Lily Hinkley was on the clock. They convinced her and her manager to let them talk to her, sitting at a large table in the middle of the diner.

“Look, I went over this a lot,” Lily sighed. She was a sharp woman—her eyes were sharp as were the rest of her features. But she looked tired talking about her husband. “It was years ago. Why do you care now?”

“Murder is murder. There is no statute of limitations,” Hank said.

“And unfortunately, there’s been another murder at the Donovan house.” Lily looked up at Sloane, paling and looking shocked. “Two nights ago.”

“The Donovan house?” she gasped.

“Yeah. Ever hear anything about it being haunted?” Nick asked.

She scoffed, recovering. “Yeah, sure. I believe in ghosts, don't you?”

Hank leaned in to speak quietly. “We think Theo may be back in town.”

She frowned. “My husband? I don't think so.”

“Show her,” Nick said, nodding to Wu.

Wu brought up the folder he’d been carrying and handed it over to her. “This was taken by the victim just before he became a victim.”

She frowned and opened it, seeing the bright yellow monster-face. “What is this supposed to prove?”

“Your husband's Wesen. Why don't you tell us what we're dealing with?” Nick said.

Lily lost her patience, staring him back. “I don't know what you're talking about. Look, I gotta get back to work.” She stood, heading to go back to the kitchen to get some orders.

Nick glanced at Sloane who nodded and stood, following him over to her.

“Lily. We need your help,” Nick said. She turned, looking fed up with them. “We need to know what we're dealing with. Detective Larson and I are Grimms—” The moment he said that she changed—both in demeanor and form. Her eyes widened and the cool nature dropped into panic. Then feathers sprouted over her body and her eyes widened and turned gold. Her nose and mouth turned hard into beaks as well.

“Calm down, we’re not here to hurt you,” Sloane said quietly. “We’re cops and Grimms and we’re here mostly as cops right now. We’re honestly trying to find out the truth, that’s all. Especially before anyone else might die.”

“But we need to know what happened five years ago to do that,” Nick said. Wu and Hank came to join them, though Sloane was pretty sure this was an unseen woge as no one in the diner was freaking out about a huge bird woman appearing.

She woged back and her defenses dropped just slightly, looking down sadly but also with a hint of anger still in her voice. “I'll tell you what happened. Theo was having an affair with Patty. I told Stetson so that he would get her to break it off with Theo, and instead, he killed them both. His own wife, my husband. He destroyed my family.”

“Why didn't you tell the detectives five years ago?” Nick asked, thinking over that information.

Sloane was as well, realizing what that changed. _It was Theo that was killed? Theo and Patty were killed by Stetson? So then…oh shit…_

“Do they know what we're talking about?” Lily asked, eyeing Hank and Wu.

“We do,” Hank nodded.

“But they’re the exception, not the rule,” Sloane said.

“Then how was I supposed to explain any of this without getting thrown into a psych ward?” she hissed, voice rising. “That my husband couldn't have done it because, unlike Stetson, he couldn't electrocute people?” She took the folder from Wu’s hand, emotions rising as she opened it again. “This is Stetson. Theo was a Scharfblicke…Like me. That's how I know he didn't kill them. He couldn't have. Not like this.” She closed again, looking sad. Some wounds hadn’t healed obviously.

“What kind of Wesen are we dealing with?” Nick asked.

“A Matanca Zumbido.”

“I told you!” Sloane said, hitting the back of her hand against Nick’s chest. Nick frowned at her and she blushed. “I mean…I thought so.”

Lily nodded, sniffing. “If I had known what he was before I told him, I never would have told him about Theo and Patty.”

“…He might’ve found out anyway,” Sloane said gently. “There’s no way of knowing now.”

She sighed and nodded softly. “The pain dulls, but it doesn’t go away…especially just…how it all happened so fast…Sorry, I think I need a moment.”

“No, yeah, go on,” Nick nodded. “Thank you, really. We’ll take it from here.”

She nodded and walked to the back.

“Okay, so we know a lot more than we did before,” Wu said. “What’s next?”

“Next is research,” Sloane said. “And considering I was right…”

Nick sighed and took the folder, then gently tapped her on the head with it, surprising her. “Yes, you were right. Now we go to the trailer.”

“The what?”

“Oh, right, you haven’t been yet,” Hank said. “You saw Sloane’s collection, but you haven’t seen Nick’s.”

“Sounds ominous…Think we can eat first?”

They looked at one another before nodding, realizing it was now sunset. After eating—burgers and fries mainly—they went to the SUV they’d taken today and driving to the woods. The sun was now below the horizon. Pulling up to the trailer, there was a silver SUV parked there already.

“Whose car is that?” Wu asked.

“Juliette's…” Nick said, confused.

“You expecting her?” Hank said.

“No,” he sighed, opening the door.

“Hope there's not a problem…”

Nick opened the door and Juliette gasped and jumped, having been reading something at the desk. “You scared me…”

“Everything okay?” Nick asked, his brow pinched in worry.

Juliette closed the notebook she was writing in and Sloane couldn’t help but notice how twitchy she was as she fiddled with it. “Yeah, you know, now that you're back and Trubel's gone, I just thought I would do a little more...So I can help out.”

Nick blinked but then nodded. “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

“Whoa,” Wu said, coming up into the trailer. “It’s…a lot bigger inside…And just…wow…”

“It's quite a trailer, huh?” Juliette said, smiling.

“No kidding.”

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We're looking for a Matanca Zumbido,” Hank said.

“Looks something like this,” Wu opened the folder and showed it. “But that’s a lot of books to look through…”

“Which is why we’ve been organizing it,” Sloane said, going over to a rolodex. “Haven’t had time for quick reference cards, but I know I wrote that name down under the M’s and what book it’s in…”

“Well, you guys know what you're doing. You don't need me for this. I don't want to crowd up the place,” she said, gathering her things and standing. She did go up and peck Nick on the lips and he smiled and watched her go. Sloane again pushed that uncomfortable feeling down as far as she could, but it didn’t feel like far enough. She tried to smile as they all said bye and she left.

Nick walked over and picked up the book Juliette had been reading curious. “Hexenbiests…”

“What?” Wu asked. He’d grabbed a book to start looking through, curious.

“They’re like witches,” Sloane said, scanning the shelves. “Spells, curses, magic, powers one should avoid messing with…”

“Oh, so those are…huh…”

“Makes sense, after everything Adalind's done to the both of you,” Hank said.

“Yeah. To all of us,” Nick sighed, putting it down.

“Not to me,” Wu said.

“Hmm, you ate her cookie,” Hank said with a wry smile.

Wu blinked and looked up at him. “I did?”

“Yeah. That's why you ate your carpet,” Nick said.

Wu’s eyes widened, remembering his time eating everything he shouldn’t a couple of years ago now. “Oh…”

“So, I guess Sloane is actually the one who hasn’t been cursed,” Hank said.

“Well, not by Adalind,” Sloane said, frowning as she looked at the books.

Nick looked up. “Wait, you’ve been cursed before?”

“Yeah. When I was 16. But it was by a Zauberbiest.”

“Is that a worse version?” Wu asked worriedly.

“It’s the male version so…take that as you will. Ah!” She pulled a book off the shelf. “Here we are.”

“Hold on, what were you cursed with?” Nick asked.

“Oh, he was a teacher at this school. He was being inappropriate with another student and when I called him out after class he tried to manipulate me. When it didn’t work he cursed me to have bad luck. Annoying more than anything, up until I almost got hit by a truck, then almost had a billboard fall over on me. I saw what he really intended then, I die, and it looks like an accident. I told Dierdre and she had me stay put while she went to kill him. Asshole didn’t even know I was a Grimm…” she finished with a mutter as she flipped through the pages.

“Holy shit…” Wu said. “So, it worked?”

“Yeah. I had to do a gross ritual thing with his blood, but I’m not cursed with bad luck. It’s just a perk of the job. Oh, but I did get a scar.” She paused and lifted the back of her shirt, showing a scar at her side than ran over her hip for a couple of inches. “The curse latched onto me when he cut me with one of his ritual knives before I got away.”

“Sloane—you were sixteen when this happened?” Nick asked, horrified. Wu and Hank looked horrified as well.

“Yep. Wait…No, fourteen.”

“Fourteen!?”

“Yeah, it was before I was supposed to be solo-hunting. My defense I didn’t know, he was good at hiding it. Dierdre was still upset, said I should be more careful. But I lived, so you know, it’s fine.”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty terrifying,” Hank said, looking sick.

“…Well I really shouldn’t tell you some of the shit that happened when I was 11 then. Anyway, I found the passage,” she said, gesturing at the book. “I’m fine now so let’s get back to that?”

The men frowned but sighed, deciding to do as she asked. Wu stood and looked over her shoulder. “Matanca Zumbido…”

Sloane looked back at him and held out the book. “You want to do the honors?”

He hesitated but took the book carefully in hand and over to the desk, so it had better light. “"Brazil, Village of Borba, 1921. After weeks of scouring the jungle, I finally encountered the creature deep in the Amazon. I've been traveling with the Batisse, an indigenous tribe. Rumors haven't done justice to this horrifying creature, which the tribe members refer to as 'Matanca Zumbido.' The power of this Wesen rivals the wrath of Zeus himself. Unfortunately, my fellow Grimm and compatriot Jonas faced that wrath head-on. One touch from this woged beast burned that mighty warrior to death, scorching his skin and shattering his skull."” He finished with a grimace, looking at them.

“Sounds like our guy,” Hank said

“Does it say how to deal with it?” Nick asked.

“Uh, let me see…"Dysentery took the lives of... six days without food... Torrential downpours, flooding."” Wu said, scanning. “Ah, here we go. "I survived my encounter with Matanca Zumbido thanks only to an ancient tribal ritual they use to hunt and eat the deadly Temblón... their term for electric eels... By using a paste made from the skin of the poison dart frog. Anura Dendrobatidae."”

“Think you got any of that?” Hank asked.

“I have no idea,” Nick said, a bit wide eyed as he stood to the cabinet with many bottles and jars. “But I'm gonna find out.”

“Yeah, haven’t started on that so good luck,” Sloane said. Nick gave her slight pout and she sighed standing. “I’ll help…” He smiled, and they both started looking at the bottles.

“So, if Stetson is the Matanca Zumbido, Raymond thought he was filming a ghost, not realizing he was Wesen,” Nick said, thinking on what they knew.

“And Stetson toasted him,” Hank said.

“To ask the obvious, if Stetson killed his wife in that house, why keep going back? Especially if he found her cheating on him?” Wu said.

“Doesn't mean he stopped loving her, albeit a little on the sick side,” Hank said, a touch sympathetically.

“Could be he didn’t want to kill them really. Maybe after it was done and he realized what he did it just…couldn’t be rationalized in his head,” Sloane said. “Maybe he goes back thinking how things could’ve been different…”

“…So maybe he is a ghost,” Wu said quietly.

“Found it,” Nick said, pulling out a bottle. “Now what?”

Wu turned back to the book, reading quickly. “Oh, this kind of interesting. Apparently, you mix the poison frog skin powder with water, stir it into a paste, then you have to pierce an ear, and rub the paste into the...”

Nick’s eyes widened and he moved over to look at him. “Whoa. Go back to the "pierce an ear" part.”

“Okay, you have to pierce an ear and rub the paste into the piercing,” Wu said, slightly amused.

Nick was shocked enough Hank could take the bottle from him. Twisting it, a large silvery needle that was tied to it glinted in the lamplight. “Explains the needle,” he said breezily.

“I'm not piercing my ear,” Nick said.

“Works for Hank,” Wu pointed out. Hank gave him a withering look. It’d been the 90s and he liked Will Smith and LL Cool J, alright?

“I don’t think the mall is open either,” Sloane said, trying not to laugh. Her own ears were already pierced—done when she was a baby, so she had no real memory of it.

Nick’s cell phone rang, and he was thankful to have a moment to not talk about piercing things as he answered. “Yeah?” He paused and then quickly turned on speaker, putting the phone on the table and surprising them. “What's wrong?”

Carol, the girl from the Ghost Seekers, began talking quickly, in panic. “I'm at the Donovan house. Paul's inside. There's a woman with a gun. Paul wouldn't leave until he found out what killed Raymond. I tried to talk him out of it, but then there was this woman, and she pointed a gun at me!”

“Carol, stay where you are. Do not go in the house. We are on our way,” Nick ordered, picking the phone up.

“Please hurry!”

Nick hanged up and looked at them, all of them worried and standing to go. “The woman with the gun has to be Lily Hinkley,” Wu said.

“She must have gone there to kill Stetson. To end it,” Sloane nodded.

“If Stetson's there...” Hank said, unsure how well a gun was going to work.

“Guess I'm piercing my ear,” Nick sighed, grabbing his jacket.

“We'll mix it in the car,” Hank said.

“Wait…does anyone remember which side the gay side is?” Sloane said, mock seriously. Nick glared and pushed her towards the door as she cackled.

“You don’t know Lion King, but you know that,” he said, exasperated.

“We had to save Jacob from a Jagerbar in a gay club once when we were teens, I learned some things,” she said, smiling still.

\--------------------

“Oh, my God, you have to help Paul!” Carol yelled, running up to meet them when they pulled up. “He's inside!”

“Wu, stay with Carol,” Nick ordered.

“Got it.”

“Hey, look,” Hank said, pointing up. The second story was lighting up, flickering like one of the house shaped candle holders Oma had had once. But there was the hum of electricity in the air, not candles. “We better do this before we head in.”

Nick sighed but nodded. “Get it over with.” Sloane nodded, reaching up with the needle.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked, confused.

“Uh, piercing his ear,” Wu said honestly.

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s a ritual!” Sloane yelled, just as she put it through. She’d hoped to distract him.

Nick grunted and hissed, jerking away. “That hurt!”

“I’m sorry,” Sloane said honestly. Nick paused, confused, as he put pressure on the lobe.

“Wait, I gotta put the paste in,” Hank said, getting the mixture on his hands and going to rub it in for him. “What about you?”

“Mine are as old as me, I don’t know if it works if they aren’t new…” Sloane said honestly. “Plus, I’m told sharing needles is a no no…”

“What kind of police are you?” Carol said, looking a bit disgusted.

“The kind who know how to deal with that!” Sloane said, pointing at the lights. Carol closed her mouth with a click and hunkered down while they quickly moved through the front door. They all drew their guns and Nick looked at her curiously. “…Not a fan still, but I’m not dumb enough to stick a piece of metal through an electric conductor,” she whispered.

He nodded, glad for that, and the moved through with their guns and flashlights raised. The lights in the whole house were going insane, flashing on and off, flickering, dancing. Like a party. As they headed quietly upstairs they heard a yell. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I don't know!” a voice answered. Paul, they were fairly sure. He sounded terrified.

“I know what you want…You want my wife!”

“Stetson! No!” And that was Lily.

“Stop!” Nick was at the room and rushed in, grabbing Stetson—who was woged, showing his bright iridescent yellow skin sparking and arching all over him—and pulled him off of Paul. Lily was on the floor, wearing a pink dress that didn’t quite fit her and hanged off her. Stetson was wearing a suit jacket. They had a feeling they’d interrupted something a little forcefully intimate. Stetson was well and truly stuck in a fantasy, thinking Lily was Patty and trying to make things “perfect” again.

“Let's go!” Hank yelled, going to grab Paul.

“My camera!” He said, trying to reach for it. He got it and Hank hauled him to the door of the room. “It was a real ghost! I saw it! You saw it too! You and Raymond saw it! I know you did!” Hank just pushed him, trying to get him away.

Nick meanwhile was fighting Stetson. Sloane hanged back, looking for an opening but she had to admire Nick’s fighting. He was blocking and dodging all attempts and then striking at the openings hard and fast. Stetson was not a hand to hand fighter, that was obvious, but she hadn’t gotten to just watch Nick work for a while. When he headbutted him and then tossed him into the side room she had to resist pumping her fist.

Stetson stood, staring at him, then woged back to a human form. “You're a... Why aren't you dead?” he asked, frustration clear in his voice.

Nick smirked a bit and shrugged. “Frog paste.” Stetson looked at him in pure confusion and Sloane smiled. She didn’t notice Lily moving next to her, grabbing a gun that had fallen to the floor. “You're under arrest for the murder of...”

Sloane finally saw Lily as she stood and took aim. “Wait!” she yelled, trying to grab her. Lily fired before she could stop her and struck Stetson right in the back. He gasped, jerking a moment in pain and shock. Then as he was falling…it was as though all the power he held flooded out in a moment. A wave of energy struck Lily and Sloane, sending them flying back, while Nick remained unaffected. It broke the windows, then kept traveling and broke the streetlights, surprising the others outside.

“Sloane!” Nick yelled, rushing over. She was twitching slightly, and he could feel a slight crackle as he turned her over. “Sloane, are you okay?”

She groaned, turning and looking up at him. “Next time…I’m using the frog paste,” she sighed, but smiled up at him.

He smiled in relief. “Yeah, I think that would be best,” he said, helping her sit up.

They heard Lily groan and he went to help her up as well.

“Are you okay?”

She sighed, moving a little tenderly, but walked to go see Stetson’s body, watching the electricity under his skin slowly fade. “I am now…” she sighed. Sloane looked at her. She seemed as if she finally dropped the weight she’d been carrying for five years and though still mournful, it seemed like she was finally ready to move on.

\---------

“Warrant just came through,” Wu said. It had been a day and they were at the precinct, wrapping everything up. “We're clear to disinter the body in Stetson Donovan's grave.”

“Gotta be Theo Hinkley,” Hank nodded.

“What are we charging Lily Hinkley with?” he asked.

They looked at one another then back at him chagrinned smiles. “Nothing.”

Wu stared back as if they were crazy. “She shot him.”

“In self-defense. Sort of.”

“She did us a favor,” Nick said.

“Yeah, did you want to try putting Matanca Zumbido behind bars?”

Wu opened his mouth but then closed it, really thinking about that, and nodded slowly. “Okay…I see your point.” He straightened when Renard walked over, holding his laptop notebook.

“Got something you might want to see,” he said, setting it down and opening it up. He hit play on the online video had had queued up and they watched footage of Stetson pulling Paul out of the closet from Paul’s camera point of view. Electricity crackled over him, then the camera moved down as he struggled and when it was back up he was woged. Big head, scaly skin, dark eyes and pulsing light—the whole wesen shebang. “This just got posted two hours ago.”

“We have anything to worry about?” Hank asked, worried.

“Don't think so. No one believes in ghosts.”

“That’s a little unfair,” Hank said. “My mom definitely believes. Used to say my grandmother was watching over me and I believe her.” Sloane flinched a little but kept her mouth shut.

“Well, I should say, no one on the internet who likes to comment on these videos does. Most of the comments are about how fake it looks, how it’s not a ghost, that it’s obviously make-up…” He scrolled down, showing them.

“Internet trolls helping us…never considered that,” Wu said, smiling.

“Indeed. Well, when you guys are done with this, why don’t you go ahead and go home? You had a late night.”

“Thanks, Boss,” Wu said, grinning as he went to finish his paperwork. The others nodded and they finished up what was left of their reports, waiting for them all to be done before standing to go together out to their cars. Hank was parked the closest and waved as the others goodbye as he headed to his car.

“Hey, Sloane?” Nick asked, pausing. She stopped and turned back, curious. “Do you really not believe in ghosts?”

She frowned. “Why ask that again?”

“Just…with everything you’ve seen and done and had done to you, I’m surprised you rule anything out,” he said honestly. “You’ve been at this longer than me, did you never see anything?”

Sloane sighed, looking around, then motioning him to follow her. They went up to the top of the carpark, where they’re voices wouldn’t echo quite so much. The stars were overhead, and it was chilly, but they turned up their collars. “…I wanted to believe in ghosts when I was younger.”

“Wanted to?”

“Yeah. When Oma died.” Nick winced, feeling he’d found a sore area. Sloane went over to the ledge nearby and leaned on the concrete wall to look out at the city lights. “I spent two days next to her body before I was found and brought in. Nothing. I asked Dierdre but she told me to stop clinging to the past. I snuck out when I was 10 to see a bunch of psychics when we were in Cassadaga, Florida. Psychic capital of the world! And none of them got anything right. I tried talking to her, tried to find out how to message her, looked for signs everywhere…and nothing. Not through the first years of my training when I was having to learn how to take hits and cuts and keep going and…Dierdre wasn’t exactly comforting. That was before I did try to let go. It’s not that I don’t believe in spirits or souls, just that once they die they move on and can’t come back. I just…tell myself ghosts don’t exist and that’s why she never came back, even if it was just to make sure I was okay…Because I wanted to believe she would if she could.”

“…I’m sorry,” Nick said honestly. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “Truthfully, I’ve seen things that I couldn’t explain. I just tried to deny it. But it was never good things. Vengeful spirits I think do exist, living and dead.”

“…I think there are good ones in the world too,” Nick said honestly. “Maybe they don’t all get to come back. Maybe…Grimms don’t get to come back. It might be a curse on us,” he said, smiling a little bitterly. Sloane thought about that, something she’d never considered. It sounded possible. “But I like to believe people who love us still think about us when they’ve passed on. And maybe they come back in small ways. After my parents…or I guess my dad passed, I thought I felt him a couple times. Birthdays, graduation… When I got into the police Academy, for just a second I thought I felt him with me…then I found an old picture of us in one of his books that same day. Little things.”

She smiled. “That’s a nice thought…was he a cop?”

“No. Antiques dealer and History professor,” he laughed. Then he looked a bit nostalgic and sad as he thought back. “I used to give him a hard time that I wasn’t interested in old stuff…That history books were boring. Now look at me. Kind of wish I’d listened more now.”

Sloane hesitated but reached up and put an arm over his shoulders. “I think he’d be proud either way…But we are.”

Nick looked at her and smiled, putting his arm around her back. “Same to you…Your Oma would be really proud.”

Sloane sighed and let herself enjoy this. Just for a little bit, with only the stars to know.

\----------------------------------

Mr. Lumb was catching up on some archiving when the landline he had at the desk rang. It was the line for interlibrary communications. Quickly walking over, he picked up the receiver with a deep breath. “Boise Library, Branch 079. Eric Lumb speaking. …Yes, I do have a letter for her. …Very well, I will forward it at once to Paris. Thank you.” He hanged up and walked over to The Dead Letter box and pulled out the letter to Deirdre G. He placed it in a first-class mailer from a basket he kept on hand, writing the appropriate address on the front. He then walked out of the library, up to the surface and immediately to a mailbox and dropped it in. Deciding that was enough for that evening he then opted to head home and the letter was promptly forgotten as it was now on its way to the intended recipient.

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo, this was a long one. Originally I was going to split it up more, but it felt like I was stretching it out too much. Like Christmas and Chupacabra were going to be one, then Wesenrein and Tribunal (which changed ALOT from my original plan but it feels better staying a bit closer to the show on this one :\ Sloane was going to do something very stupid originally but it just didn't feel right...) and so forth. But then it felt like it was taking too long to get to parts I'm looking forward to the most. A lot of stuff happens just ON TOP of one another at this point in the show (like, no one gets a chance to breathe it feels), so I'm playing with timing a little but trying not to just skip out on things too...
> 
> For some wondering, Deirdre will be here in 23, so one more set up chapter because again, all this is happening in a short period of time and I can't find breathing room for them! Something I've learned trying to plot this though is I HAVE GIVEN MORE THOUGHT TO A TIMELINE IN GRIMM THAN THE WRITERS. I have a spreadsheet :| If I can get ahead enough, might update early. Wish me luck!
> 
> OH! On a side note, I was going to mention how tickled I was at the casting in Wesenrein and Tribunal! Riken was played by Brandon Quinn, who played Tommy Dawkins in one of my youthful obsessions Big Wolf on Campus (for real, if someone can point me to where I can get a good quality box set of this, I will trade for that info. You want smut, I write smut! Just...nothing too squicky) as the titular werewolf! Seeing him as a villain kinda sucked but it still made me laugh. Monroe's mom is also played by Dee Wallace Stone, start of my favorite werewolf movie the Howling! Grimm's casting guys were on point!


End file.
